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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815029">Under Duress</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dee/pseuds/In_Dee'>In_Dee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS: Los Angeles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brainwashing, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:36:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,599</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27815029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_Dee/pseuds/In_Dee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your mission, Agent Callen, is to kill your team.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Destruction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alright everyone. This story is on the dark and heavy side. It’s pretty graphic and it’s one of the darkest (if not <i>the</i> darkest) I’ve ever written. Consider yourself warned!</p><p>For those of you worried about the warnings about threats of non-con… it’s not in any way in strong focus. It’s basically dealt with in a few paragraphs and more as an abstract concept than a real valid threat. I included the warning to be on the safe side.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Part I - Destruction</p><p>It hadn’t been the first time he left OSP in the middle of the night, locking up behind himself. Ever since joining NCIS and being stationed in L.A., the old building had been a sanctuary for him, a place to relax and feel safe in. The location was confidential and the building was well protected.</p><p>That may have been part of why he hadn’t reacted instantly, his senses still somewhat mellow from the feeling of safety that place and its immediate surroundings always brought.</p><p>There had been a brief moment of surprise before the attack had registered properly and he had retaliated. Countering the moves of three attackers at once, he was doing his best to keep himself alive and preferably unharmed. Two more attackers joined the fray and while he had been trained well most of his life and even more so since joining the covert NCIS L.A. branch - training different fighting styles, training with multiple experts, training with Sam - going against a group of five well educated assailants on his own left him at a distinct disadvantage.</p><p>Later, he wouldn’t be able to tell how long the fight lasted, but he took several hits to his back, legs and abdomen, managing to at least mostly shield his head. He also got some hits in, but felt himself tiring eventually due to being outnumbered. His attackers varied their approaches, rotating out if they were tiring and therefore remaining fresh while he didn’t get a reprieve.</p><p>Callen cursed himself for a brief lapse of attention when one of the men slipped past his guard, below the pipe he had managed to grab from one of the conveniently hidden caches of weapons placed around the dilapidated building. The two men grappled and Callen hissed when his opponent got an arm wrenched around and over the back of his neck, bending him over just as he sensed another coming up behind him. The blow to the back of his head stunned him for a second, his grip loosening and his attackers pressed their advantage, bringing him down to the ground. Despite his struggles, they quickly and effectively bound his hands behind his back, also tying his feet together.</p><p>He saw and heard a van screeching to a halt close by as he was dragged off the ground and carried towards the vehicle despite his ongoing struggles. Once inside the van, he was forced face down and held there with a knee in his back. He consciously and deliberately slowed his struggles, using every scrap of rationalism he possessed, knowing he could severely injure himself now. In his current face-down position with a knee added to the back, positional asphyxiation was a very valid threat… and he couldn’t escape if he was dead.</p><p>Reacting to his decreased struggling, the man on his back eased his bodyweight off, letting him breathe somewhat easier.</p><p>Callen closed his eyes and gave himself a moment to just breathe and slow down. The situation was out of his control for now. He had been taken by multiple unknown attackers. He would remain alert to use any possible situation to escape but until then he would have to bide his time and keep himself as uninjured as possible.</p><p>His eyes shot back open when he felt a needle enter the muscle in the back of his shoulder. Bucking up, he found his assailants prepared for such a move and easily pinning him down.  Tossing several more times, the world started slowing down around him, his body succumbing to the fast acting sedative that was now being pumped through his system.</p><p>He was still distantly aware off the man on his back sliding off and several hands turning him onto his side before he couldn’t fight the darkness of unconsciousness any longer.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>He woke up feeling groggy and lethargic, his tongue too big for his mouth, his head stuffed with cotton and his stomach in turmoil. Rolling onto his side, Callen heaved, bringing up only bile. Dry heaving and retching, his stomach finally settled down somewhat and he managed to slide a short distance away from the mess on the cement floor.</p><p>Callen shivered slightly, less in fear of what was to come and more in reaction to the cramps in his stomach, the lasting effects of the drugs coursing through his body and the cold cement floor.</p><p>He allowed his eyes to close as he let his head sink back down, marshalling his strength and waiting for his mind to start working properly again.</p><p>He distantly recognized time was slipping by. He was drowsing and drifting as the sedative slowly left his system.</p><p>Eventually, he gradually started to feel more in control of himself and decided to go over what he knew…</p><p>One: he had been taken from right in front of OSP, meaning their location was compromised. With how much care they all took to make sure to keep the location secret, it would have to be some influential and powerful foe to find the place… which was not a welcome conclusion. If the attack had happened at the boatshed, he wouldn’t be as worried, since every crook they interrogated there knew about it, but their headquarters were quite a bit more protected.</p><p>Two: he had been taken by professionals. They had outnumbered him and their attack had been well rehearsed, a group of people very familiar with each other’s fighting styles, strengths and weaknesses. They had known quite well what they had been up against with him and taken any advantages of home-ground and fighting capabilities right out of his hand. Again, this hinted at a powerful foe.</p><p>Three: the whole attack had been well planned, from the number of assailants to the waiting van and the syringe with sedatives.</p><p>Four: he had been attacked in the middle of the night when no one else was present anymore, which suggested it had been a targeted attack, which in turn implied that they wanted something from him specifically, something that only he could provide. A lot of confidential information sprang to the forefront of his mind before he pushed it back.</p><p>Five: waking up and dry-heaving also told him something else… it took between 6 and 8 hours for food to pass through the stomach. He had had a late night snack of left-over take-away only an hour or so before he had left the mission, so he had lost at least 5 hours or possibly more due to the sedatives.</p><p>He still felt too out of it to try and get up to check out his prison so he let his mind continue to wander, using the time afforded to him to prepare himself for what was to come. There was no doubt in his mind that it would involve some form of physical and/or psychological torture. It wasn’t the first time he had been held captive, also not the first time he had been subjected to torture, and he knew the time before it started could be detrimental. The worrying, the natural fear of the unknown, fear of <i>knowing</i> you would be harmed and purposefully hurt… It was a waiting game that his captors were trying to use to their advantage or they already would have made an appearance. It was just one of many forms of psychological torture.</p><p>Callen knew this, and he also knew how to work against it. He may not have gone through SEAL-training, but he’d had several anti-interrogation trainings… and several real-life experiences.</p><p>The instructor of one of his more advanced anti-interrogation trainings came to mind. He’d been a - mostly - retired spook, someone whose name was redacted. To the day, he only knew the man’s pseudonym: Mirage. Callen had a healthy dose of distrust towards authority figures but Mirage had gained his respect within seconds. Just the way the man behaved, the way he held himself and the way he moved had been enough to commandeer his respect. His gut feeling had been that the man knew what he was talking about, that he had been on both sides of the interrogation table and that Callen better <i>sit down and listen</i> to what the man had to say.</p><p>The man’s knowledge had helped him before and Callen called Mirage’s words to the forefront of his mind again: “<i>It comes down to accepting the worst is always to come. When you think that there's no way it can get worse, it will. But know this as well… your body can adapt to what you're put through as long as you remain in control of yourself.</i>"</p><p>He continued breathing calmly. In through his nose (despite the stink of vomit close by) and out through his mouth. His heart rate remained steady and he let his mind fill with pictures of good memories, memories that gave him strength and security - bantering with the team, Sam’s solid presence working beside him, Nell and Eric’s voices in his ear guiding him through a mission, Deeks’ mischievous laugh right before he got focused on their objective, Kensi’s calm determination as she provided overwatch through the scope of her rifle, Hetty’s old and wizened stare as she considered all angles of the metaphorical chess board in front of her. He allowed those pictures to fill him up and feed his strength, combining it with the natural inborn stamina he’d always had. It had been tested before and he was confident it would withstand this trial as well.</p><p>Callen allowed his eyes to spring open when the door was unlocked. He didn’t move from where he was though, instead watched as three men came into the room. All of them were of Asian descent and just by the way they moved he determined that all of them had been present during his initial abduction.</p><p>He didn’t shy away when they grabbed him and drew him up. With his hands chained in front of him, he didn’t have many means of defending himself anyway and he knew he would have to pick his battles wisely.</p><p>He started struggling though when they began tearing off his clothes, instantly deciding that this was a battle he was very determined to pick. He only ceased his struggles upon several well placed punches, out of breath and bent over in a forceful submission hold.</p><p>Dread raced through him upon being stripped one layer after the other, some of his clothes being sliced off with knives because of the restraints. Situations like this were volatile and often unpredictable. A sexual assault was its own kind of torture, a way of shattering an individual’s confidence and sense of self, something that had never happened to him before, though it had been hinted at.</p><p>Callen breathed deeply when his captors backed off without going any further than taking his clothes.</p><p>He was aware of the psychological consequences of being stripped naked. The humiliation of being naked around fully clothed captors was an unpleasant feeling. It brought into sharp contrast the roles of the people present… him a captive without any kind of power, them pulling the strings. It was an immediate and effective way of domination over and demoralization of the victim. The theory was all well and dandy, but he had to admit the reality was somewhat harsher than expected.</p><p>Callen sank down to the ground when the three men stepped away and left the room. His mind was reeling and he was glad for the reprieve, needing a few moments to settle himself. The fact that he had been awake while being stripped let him know it was a conscious move on his captors’ part, having him very much aware of what was happening and having his mind fill the blanks of what <i>might</i> happen in the future… psychological torture at its finest.</p><p>Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead on his drawn-up knees, focusing on his breathing. He had several choices here… loosing himself in the fear of the potential threat of a sexual assault was one way. The threat was there, the possibility of it happening hung in the air and he knew he had to face it head on. He had to accept it might happen, prepare himself for the worst and hope for the best so he could remain functional.</p><p>Callen jumped slightly when the lights started flickering, the steady, dull illumination turning into fast changing strobe lights. At the same time, noise started blaring through the room.</p><p>Both the visual and sound effects served to disorient the captive and mess with his head. <i>This</i> he had gone through before and it hadn’t been pretty. Callen sighed and lay down facing the wall, putting his arms around his head. He couldn’t escape either the noise or the flashing lights, but he could at least lessen the effects a little by shielding himself from the flickering lights as best as he could. He didn’t try to retreat into himself, knew from experience the noise would not allow it for him. Instead he gave himself over to it, letting it wash around and over and through him.</p><p>Time would soon lose all meaning in these conditions and he knew once the lights and noise turned off, things would begin for real. This was just another prelude of mellowing the captive.</p><p>Again, all of this led credence to his previous considerations: he was facing a powerful and very skilled opponent.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>The lights were still flickering when they came for him. Callen startled when he was roughly drawn up to his knees and pushed against the wall. Within moments, a hood was placed over his head and headphones sank down over his ears.</p><p>The abrupt change from blaring noise and flickering lights to complete sound and sight deprivation was jarring and he felt himself reeling, trying to come to grips with it. The silence rang in his head and his eyes tried to seek out the faintest spot of light.</p><p>He shifted slightly, starting to turn around, only to be brought up short by a firm hand on his shoulder. His hands were still shackled in front of him but two of his captors on either side of him now reached for them and drew them over his head, placing his hands against the back of his head before pushing him forward with his head leaning against the wall.</p><p>Inwardly, he sighed… stress positioning. The next step in the intricate dance that was going on here. The loss of control - of sight, of sound and of freedom to move - grated heavily and he closed his eyes beneath the hood, once more trying to settle himself.</p><p>He had the frustrating feeling of always being one step behind his captors, trying to react to what was happening, scrambling to catch up instead of determining the game even from his weak position.</p><p>Before long, his muscles started protesting the position he was in, but even the smallest of shifts on his part was instantly countered and corrected by the men around him. He was trembling by the time they changed his stance from one stress position to another.</p><p>He had gone through this during his training before, also had it happen in reality to him, but having previous experience didn’t make this any easier to take.</p><p>Again, he recalled Mirage. <i>Remember that pain is fleeting. It will go away.</i></p><p>He wasn’t sure how many stress positions they put him through before the headphones and hood were taken off and his world was thrust back into the chaos of noise and flickering lights. Swinging from one extreme to the other again made for a brutal contrast. At least he could lie down now though. Callen heaved a sigh and hissed when he drew up his arms back over his head, his muscles protesting the position.</p><p>He had no idea how long he had been in captivity by now. He was exhausted and hungry, but he knew this was just the start of it. Despite everything that had been going on so far, he had yet to meet the head of the snake. So far, not a word had been spoken to him - another tactic of isolating a prisoner from human contact - and all of this was just leading up to mellowing him for the real deal. As of yet, he had no idea what these men wanted from him.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>They went through three more cycles of stress positioning in complete silence and sightlessness before returning to noise and strobe lights and back again. He was thoroughly exhausted and completely disoriented when they drew him out of a stress position and started dragging him somewhere. He staggered along, his muscles burning and his body shaking with fatigue. Callen pushed and prodded his mind to wake up from the stupor it had sunken into. He needed to be as alert as possible despite what had been done to him so far, as he guessed <i>now</i> things would move beyond the state of buttering him up.</p><p>He stumbled and they pushed him into a wall in retaliation. Callen held his protests, instead simply staggered further along when they dragged him forward once more, somewhat glad for the incident as it served to sharpen his focus.</p><p>He was drawn to a stop and forcefully shoved down into a chair. The headphones were ripped off but the hood remained. Callen held himself still, giving himself a moment to let his senses adjust, listening to the sounds around him. Two people were moving behind him and while there was no movement in front of him, he could feel someone watching him. He forced himself not to shudder under the gaze, instantly wary and unsettled by the presence in front of him.</p><p>Silence fell around the room and Callen waited. He didn’t move when one of the men from behind approached and he also didn’t move when the hood was drawn off. Blinking his eyes rapidly, he waited for his eyes to adjust before he raised his head.</p><p>In front of him was a sturdy table, rough wood with several deep gouges. The man on the other side of the table was watching him intently and Callen met the man’s gaze head on, using every scrap of confidence and resilience he had to project an outwardly calm air. The man was of stocky build, somewhat heavy set but still with enough bulk of muscle to indicate he was able to take care of himself. Just like the rest of his bunch, he was of Asian descent with short black hair and dark, intelligent eyes.</p><p>Callen forced himself to ignore his continued nakedness, having somewhat gotten used to it by now. It made for a sharp contrast to the well dressed man he was facing though. He didn’t let his own eyes stray from the man to the various cabinets and appliances that had been set out around him. He knew there would be instruments on display to intimidate, to provoke a spike of fear.</p><p>The man on the other side of the table smiled mildly and acknowledged Callen’s focus with a small nod.</p><p>He didn’t nod back. He also didn’t speak, knowing the man was waiting for him to start talking. It was a human trait to want to fill the silence with words, especially when you perceived yourself on the short end of the stick. Fact was though, Callen got on well with silence, so he settled himself to wait.</p><p>Before long, the other man drew a breath. It felt like a small victory to have the other man break the silence first, but whatever feeling of victory he felt was immediately doused by the man’s words: “Welcome to Chinquong, Agent Callen.”</p><p>He tried to hold back on his reaction, kept his mouth shut against the way his breath wanted to escape him. Chinquong was a maximum-security prison located on the outskirts of Beijing. A number of political prisoners had been incarcerated there over the years.</p><p>He knew better than to take things for face value. Without a frame of reference, without any proof, without any glimpse of the outside world, he could be anywhere - in Beijing, in Moscow or just around the corner from OSP - but the sheer implication was beyond worrisome.</p><p>From the way the man’s face merged into a satisfied smirk, he hadn’t held back his reactions quite well enough despite being undecided about the accuracy of the man’s words.</p><p>“I see you recognize the name, probably also the reputation… which is nothing compared to the reality, I assure you,” the man stated mildly and stood up before he stepped to the side.</p><p>Despite fighting against it, his eyes briefly flickered over to the cabinets behind the desk, a collection of scalpels, knives and other things set out on display as expected. Kind of a cliché as well. Callen dragged his eyes away to meet the other man’s once more, finding a sadistic enjoyment in them.</p><p>He inwardly cursed himself. He would need to curb his reactions even better. That man was able to look beneath his masks - masks that were admittedly in disarray after the many hours of vicious disorientation.</p><p>He forced his mind away from the oncoming trials. Mirage’s words swam back into focus: ‘<i>don’t dwell on what is to happen. Accept it. Accept you hold no power over anything but yourself.</i>’ Callen embraced the feeling of security the man’s words had evoked back then. He may not hold power over the situation, but his body was his own. He had gone through torture before - though admittedly it hadn’t been as systematically done as what he had already gone through in the past few hours… and that was even before they reached some kind of apex. They were currently on a plateau somewhere at best half-way up the hill. Things would get worse, much worse. He could see it in his opponent’s confident stance and in his eyes.</p><p>When he saw the other man’s features tighten, he allowed himself a small smile of victory, knowing he’d been successful in rearranging his masks and projecting confidence despite the man’s goading. He basked in that victory, allowed it to fill him to sustain him.</p><p>“I’m sure you have an idea what’s going to happen in the future,” the Asian said, glancing meaningfully around them. Callen didn’t follow the man’s eyes, instead kept his focus on the man. “I’m giving you an out now, spare yourself all the pain, the degradation and humiliation. You just have to agree to one thing.”</p><p>‘<i>Here it comes</i>,’ he thought to himself, ‘<i>the reason for all of this</i>.’ It came quite early in this meeting, if not exactly early in this whole game. Callen tilted his head to the side in a silent prompt, still not speaking.</p><p>“Your team has become quite a hindrance to some of our plans and dealings.”</p><p>He allowed a smirk to break free. They’d intercepted some Chinese Agents and messed up some well planned business deals about top secret Navy technology lately. It was nice to know that their successes made some difference… even if it came at his own expense now.</p><p>The other man’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t react otherwise.</p><p>Callen stored the information away, cataloguing traits and knowledge about his opponent. This man was someone who held a tight rein over himself, obviously slow to anger, cunning and well organized. It made for a very dangerous adversary.</p><p>“We can’t have you destroying any more of our deals, and in punishment of what you destroyed before, your mission, Agent Callen, is to kill your team.”</p><p>The words were soft, nearly gentle, but held a ring of steel beneath. Still… Callen couldn’t help himself. He started laughing because of the ridiculousness of it all. He had expected they wanted state secrets, confidential information. He had hardened himself against being tortured for information. When the man revealed what they wanted though, it left him floundering…</p><p>The man waited in silence until his laughter died down, simply watching him with intense eyes. Once Callen finally fell silent, the laughter having run its course, the other man approached him. “I hoped that would be your answer,” he murmured and brought a hand up to his cheek.</p><p>Callen recoiled from the touch, his training instantly taking over and countering the move, his cuffed hands coming up and taking hold of the other man’s wrist, twisting it and bending it around, forcing the man face down onto the table while he stood up from his chair in the same moment, the move fluid and lightning quick.</p><p>His victory was short lived as the guards behind him intervened, a sharp jab to his kidneys making him wince though he didn’t release his hold. Knowing he wouldn’t win this battle, but determined to take a stand, he bent down over the other man and whispered into his captive’s ear, “I will never bow to you.”</p><p>He had to let go of the man as one of the guards snuck an arm around his neck, drawing him back in a choke hold. He fought the two guards for several moments until dark spots danced in his vision from the lack of air. Still he kept struggling even after the hood was placed over his head once more, taking his vision, if not his instincts. He lashed out against the man in his back - a kick to the knee that must have glanced off but not done the intended damage as the man remained standing. A punch to his stomach forced what little air he still had out of his lungs and made him fold over.</p><p>A moment later, it was him face down on the table, the rough wood chafing against his bare skin. His hands were drawn out from underneath him and the chain between the cuffs hooked to the other side of the table, leaving him stretched over it. Another moment later, a line of fire exploded on his back, the first of many as a cane was brought down repeatedly on him.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>Callen lay, shivering from the cold and exhaustion both. The caning had raised welts on his back, but he didn’t think the skin had been broken in too many places. Still, his back hurt, his muscles quivering and the skin stretching uncomfortably.</p><p>Because he had been hooded since just before the caning started, he wasn’t sure of his tormentor’s mental state, hadn’t been able to visually asses it. Before the attack, he had seen a cold and calculating individual, but the caning had felt impulsive… on the other hand, if the man had managed to merely raise welts instead of flaying the skin off his back after Callen’s attack, there had to have been a measure of control in it. He wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.</p><p>The strobe lights and noises were back, had been from the moment he’d been thrown back into his cell. Right now, he didn’t mind. He needed some moments to stretch out and let his body adjust to the discomfort - because for now, <i>physically</i> it was no more than a discomfort. He had been injured worse by one or another of his foster parents in incidents similar to this one.</p><p>He doubted that was all his captors had in store for him though, the previous rounds of stress positions, noise, strobe lights and everything that came before and in between were too calculating and subtly manipulative for the physical violence to stop at a caning.</p><p>Again, he wondered if the incident had been just another preplanned step in an escalation of violence and torture. If he had gotten a glimpse of his tormentor during the caning, he would possibly be more confident in gauging the state of things. As it was, he remained in uncertainty.</p><p>He still wasn’t perfectly sure if he had indeed been brought to China or if they were still somewhere within the United States. His contact so far had been limited to maybe five or six people, all of them of Asian descent. That didn’t mean anything though.</p><p>He couldn’t adequately calculate the time he had been sedated after the initial attack, so he had to admit it was a possibility he had spent an intercontinental flight drugged and unconscious. Whether it was true or not, just the thought of having been displaced to China served to isolate him further, forced a feeling of helplessness to weigh heavily on him. If he had been brought to China, help in form of his team was far away. Then again, he had often operated best under the impression of being alone.</p><p>Hunger and thirst were gnawing on him, adding to the discomfort he was feeling. He didn’t think they would let him die of thirst - they still wanted something from him after all - but his body craved water and he knew that rational thinking would do little to help, the thirstier he got.</p><p>Suddenly, the lights went out, leaving him in pitch blackness. A moment later, the blaring noise also died down.</p><p>He tensed, coiled for action, unsure if an attack was imminent. When several minutes passed without anything happening, he forced himself to relax. This might be his only chance to get some rest. Sleep deprivation was another form of torture after all, muddling the mind and exhausting the body. He remained somewhat wary of the quiet, but he knew he needed to try and rest as best as he could to restore his energy levels.</p><p>Closing his eyes, Callen tried to settle down and get some sleep.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>A kick to the abdomen brought him awake and flipped him over onto his back. Callen was a second to slow to move - though he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do to counter his enemy’s moves - and once more found himself face down before the black hood was placed over his head again. The headphones followed, silencing the world around him.</p><p>He had no concept of time anymore, didn’t know how long he had been able to sleep, but it felt like it had been mere minutes. Contrary to the brief minutes of rest, his time spent in the hands of his captors felt like an eternity.</p><p>He was dragged out of his prison cell and shoved to wherever it was they were setting him up this time.</p><p>Again, he was made to sit and once the headphones and hood came off, he found himself in the same room as before. The stocky Asian sat in the opposite chair, the table between them. Callen’s gaze fell onto the glass of water in front of him, his dry throat constricting as his fingers twitched.</p><p>The Asian smiled and nodded towards the water. “Drink it,” he offered mildly.</p><p>Callen’s eyes narrowed instantly and the man laughed, the sound soft and musical even though it felt cold.</p><p>“Don’t worry. It is not poisoned or drugged. We still need you to do our bidding and once we drug you, you’ll be aware of it happening.” There was malice in the tone even though the words were said evenly and somewhat gently.</p><p><i>Once</i> we drug you.</p><p>Not <i>if</i> or <i>in case</i>.</p><p>The words were not said by mistake either. They were a clear threat and at the same time a mere statement of what was to come.</p><p>Callen’s eyes went to the water again. He desperately needed some fluids. He couldn’t be sure of the man’s words, didn’t know if he was lying about the water being clear or not, but he could control this. He knew that there were reports of incidents with Chinese prisoners being force fed through tubes. He had the feeling this man would resort to such measures so his captive didn’t die before he had outlived his usefulness. Callen knew he would hate <i>that</i> more than drinking the water voluntarily and finding it drugged. At least if he drank it on his own terms, was able to control this small part of his situation.</p><p>He slowly sat forward and reached for the glass, bringing it to his lips. He took a cautious sniff, not detecting any suspicious smell - though that didn’t mean much. A lot of poisons and drugs wouldn’t smell or even taste. Mentally shrugging, he took a slow sip. He wanted to chug the whole drink down, but he knew he had to pace himself so he wouldn’t make himself sick.</p><p>He held his captor’s eye as he took one sip after the other, wary of being denied the whole glass but determined to drink slowly.</p><p>When the glass was empty, he set it carefully back onto the table.</p><p>The Asian nodded. “See, that wasn’t so bad,” he stated evenly. “Now, have you reconsidered your answer to my proposal?”</p><p>There was a greedy anticipation in the man’s eyes. Callen revisited his thoughts from after the caning and now felt rather certain that while it had seemed impulsive, the man had been very conscious of his moves. He was looking into the eyes of a sociopath, a man who enjoyed inflicting pain, who enjoyed playing with people, toying with the mind of his prey. And what was worse, Callen had a gut feeling deep inside of himself that the Asian was <i>very</i> good at what he did.</p><p>Still… he straightened and shook his head, not even dignifying the question with a verbal answer.</p><p>The man’s smile widened, sharp and reminding him of a shark about to strike. “Very well,” he said softly. “You are a protector, Agent Callen, and I’ve seen what you’ve done to protect the American people. I know it would be very easy to get you to agree by threatening the innocent people you are sworn to protect. You did it before, jumping through the hoops of the Black Widow and some other people before her.”</p><p>Callen hated that the Asian knew about this. This information about their previous cases wasn’t exactly public knowledge. He wondered how such information had been leaked, but decided to store that knowledge for later and focus back on the man.</p><p>The Asian smiled mildly as he watched his captive. “There are other ways though, more thorough ways, and it will be a delightful challenge to break you.”</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>His nerve endings were on fire, his skin pulled tight and his muscles twitching involuntarily every now and then. With the use of electroshocks, there was minimal outward damage to show for his trouble, but damage was being done.</p><p>The current that had pulsed through him time and again shouldn’t be too harmful for his body, but it was painful alright, his muscles locking up whenever the current was applied.</p><p>He had distantly wondered about the methods, even more so since he had seen the various other instruments laid out. Then again, his captors would want him to be functional and relatively unharmed to do their bidding - a bidding he still refused to do, would continue to refuse.</p><p>Still, after what by now had to be days of torture, sleep deprivation, strobe lights and noise, his walls were cracked and needed to be fortified. He used every single moment he had to himself to adjust, evaluate and mentally shore himself up further.</p><p>Whenever he could, he recalled Mirage’s teachings.</p><p>
  <i>Pain is fleeting. You can adapt as long as you’re in control of yourself. The fight is won with the mind.</i>
</p><p>Every wall he managed to erect was a wall his captors strove to tear down again.</p><p>And the worst of it? Callen felt they still hadn’t reached the crescendo. After days of torment, he knew that his captor was a consummate professional in what he did. This wasn’t the first time he tortured someone. The Asian was a calculating man - as he had suspected before and learned in reality so far. The man was very aware of what he was doing and he was taking his time to do it. He didn’t seem to be in a rush, unconcerned about being found out or interrupted which sadly gave credence to the claim that they were in China and well out of his team’s reach.</p><p>Callen knew there were prisons and prison camps all over China. It was the largest system of forced labor, torture and brainwashing the world had seen. The world was aware of it, but mostly looked away as they could do very little to change it without interfering with the country’s sovereignty. A lot of these prison facilities had one particular goal: to break the will of the people. Some of the methods employed came from the era of China’s Cultural Revolution. <i>Sixiang gaizao</i> had been the name of the re-education system back then. The literal translation meant: ‘thought reform’ or ‘ideological remolding’. The actual meaning was: brainwashing.</p><p>Even without any drugs yet being employed, Callen felt himself struggling to keep the Asian at bay, to remain unaffected. He felt the subtle and yet violent way the man was reaching into him, into his brain to reconnect the wires that made him tick.</p><p>Callen tracked the Asian’s movements as the man walked in circles around the chair he was restrained in. He knew what would happen, was powerless to stop it though. The instant the Asian left his field of vision was the instant his body wracked with pain, muscles locking up when another pulse of electricity zapped through him.</p><p>It took longer and longer for it to the pain to die down so he could gasp for breath, longer and longer for his lungs to expand and take in air. In just that moment, that moment the pain abated, the Asian returned to his sight. The man waited patiently, watching him through calculating eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing to him.</p><p>The sad part was, Callen knew, too.</p><p>It was another psychological warfare tactic: the prisoner was hurt, made to suffer pain. The pain only went away when the torturer was in his line of sight, forcing a subconscious connection between freedom from pain and the torturer himself.</p><p>Callen turned his focus back inwards, doing his best to counteract what the man was doing. Whenever he came into his line of sight, he let his hatred for the Asian take over. With his weakening state though, it got harder to do and he was slipping, feeling himself hoping the man would remain where he could see him, not just because then the pain would stay away but also because he was falling to this subconscious training of the man being <i>safety</i> when he was anything but.</p><p>He closed his eyes, slumping in his seat, his body hunched over and exhausted.</p><p>Callen heard his torturer move, braced himself for the next wave of pain and cringed in anticipation. He was somewhat startled when it didn’t come.</p><p>There was a pause before the Asian spoke to the guards behind him in Chinese. Callen’s Chinese was rudimentary, but he understood enough to determine that something along the lines of ‘he is ready’ had been said.</p><p>The Asian returned to his line of sight and Callen blearily glanced at him, once more feeling like a bug being scrutinized under the microscope. As he was left unharmed for the moment, he allowed himself to drift.</p><p>That natural inborn stamina he had bragged about at the beginning of this ordeal? He wasn’t sure how much of it remained. He thought there was a remaining reservoir deep, deep down, a pool of strength he had never before been forced to reach for, but he was exhausted after the concentrated onslaught of violence against his body and mind.</p><p>The cables attached to the electrodes on his chest were unclipped and he was lifted from the chair by two guards. He sagged in their hold, unable to find the strength to stand. They dragged him out of the room, not bothering with the hood or the headphones. That in itself was a testament of how bad he must look as they had never allowed that before when they took him out of the room. He distantly took in his surroundings, the trained part of his brain cataloguing turns and twists they made while also trying to pick out landmarks. There were Chinese signs on some of the walls, walls made of stone, no windows granting a look at the outside. He tried to stumble along, but mostly his legs refused to work.</p><p>Before long, they entered another room, similar to his usual torture chamber. He blearily took in the surroundings, noting the projector behind the chair and the screen that took up most of the wall in front of it. He was deposited in the chair, his limbs rearranged to his captor’s liking before being restrained in place. His head was forced back against the headrest, a strap pulled tight over his forehead, restricting the range of movement of his head to basically nothing. Thoroughly exhausted, knowing that struggling was futile, he allowed his eyes to close. Callen listened to the sounds of the men moving around him, sinking into himself and not trying to make sense of what they were doing. He knew he would find out eventually, but in the meantime he needed every second of respite he could have.</p><p>A hand cradled his chin and a glass was brought to his lips. He drank, not offering any resistance. He didn’t get a lot of food, but they fed him water regularly. He hated the fact that very often, the glass was held to his lips, just another way of asserting dominance over him and his body, but he drank what they gave him. So far, it hadn’t been drugged - at least not in a noticeable way.</p><p>He remained boneless in the chair, idly cataloguing his hurts, the points of agony.</p><p>Callen swallowed back the whimper when cables were being reattached to the pads stuck to his chest, understanding that this round wasn’t over yet. He longed to lie down, to let his body melt into the unforgiving cool stone floor of his prison cell, but that wasn’t to happen yet.</p><p>He winced and tried to move away when his left eyelid was touched. The touch lifted and his lid was drawn open and held there, taped to his brow. The same thing was done to his right eye, forcing his eyes open and making him stare straight ahead at the screen.</p><p>Dread pulsed through him in thick waves. He hated this additional loss of control and the way his body refused to even fight anymore.</p><p>The Asian appeared in his line of vision just as the chair was being tilted backwards. Callen fought the brief bout of vertigo before he focused on the man above him. He unsuccessfully tried to shrink back when the Asian tilted a small bottle, dripping some droplets into first his right and then his left eye. It didn’t burn or sting, but it left him unsettled.</p><p>“Shhhh,” the Asian soothed softly, brushing the backs of his fingers against Callen’s cheek. He wanted to recoil from the touch as he had wanted to recoil from it often before, but was unable to. “It’s just eye drops, fluid. You’re dehydrated and I see no need to damage you further.”</p><p>He watched the man with a mixture of hatred, disgust and exhaustion. Again, he vowed to himself that he would take this man down. He would hunt him down no matter how long it took. For now, it was an empty threat though, and he knew it.</p><p>The chair was righted and again he was facing the screen.</p><p>The Asian stepped to the side.</p><p>And as soon as he was out of his line of vision, the pain was back.</p><p>His body seized, but his eyes remained open and he watched pictures begin to flash on the screen.</p><p>Pictures of his team, his friends. Pictures of the people he considered family.</p><p>It was in that moment that he realized that everything that had come before had just been the first step of reconfiguring his mind. They had forged a connection between being free from pain with his torturer and now they were forging an additional connection between pain and the people they wanted him to kill.</p><p>He screamed in rage and in pain, struggling against his bindings despite the current running through him. When the current stopped, the Asian stood in front of him, blocking his line of sight, blocking the pictures from his team mates and his friends, again inserting himself into the conditioning of being free from pain.</p><p>The man’s expression could only be called smug satisfaction. They both knew what the man was doing, just as they both knew that Callen would do everything he could to fight against it.</p><p>Both men were professionals, locked in a battle of wills, an underhanded battle of power… a battle that was set to destroy one of the men’s minds.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>He lay huddled in his cell, his knees drawn up as much as possible, tears of pain, frustration, hatred and fear leaking from his eyes.</p><p>Even though he was alone, flashes from what felt like weeks of torture and brainwashing remained in front of his eyes.</p><p>The Asian was systematically breaking down his defenses, using pain and conditioning and Callen felt himself losing his grip on reality and on his mind. There was a confusing mix of do’s and don’ts, of long held beliefs that were being reconfigured to someone else’s liking. He hated the loss of control over more than just his body - the loss of control over his mind.</p><p>‘<i>Don’t dwell on what is to happen. Accept it. Accept you hold no power over anything but yourself.</i>’</p><p>‘But what do I do if I lose power over myself?’</p><p>Only silence answered that internalized question. He could really use some of Mirage’s knowledge right about now, would also settle for some of Hetty’s wisdom. As soon as his mentor’s face entered his mind, his body cringed, conditioned to expect pain. Something that had given him strength and comfort before - memories of his team, his belief in them and his friendship with them - was now being poisoned and used against him.</p><p>He was being whittled down inch by inch and even his fortified walls felt inadequate against such a skilled and determined opponent.</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>He tracked the movement of the syringe wearily, knowing there was nothing he could do against it. Just as his captor had promised days, weeks, months ago, he had been informed just moments before that he would be drugged.</p><p>He was back in the torture chamber with the screen, and after the contents of the syringe had been entered into his veins, the drugs released in a fiery burning that radiated outwards from the point of injection, his eyes were taped open again.</p><p>He had lost count of how often this had happened, also wasn’t sure when the last time was that he had been allowed more than a few moments of sleep. His internal clock was completely out of synch and he had absolutely no idea how long he had been in this wretched place, how long he had been forced to endure one aspect of physical and psychological torture after another.</p><p>Callen felt his mind beginning to drift and he scrambled to pull up his defenses, the walls he hid those parts of himself behind he had been able to protect so far. His grasp on any defense mechanism he had grew shadier with each passing second as the drug started working through his system.</p><p>When the pictures started, he was unprepared for the pain, the pulsing current of electricity.</p><p>“The longer you refuse, the longer you’ll hurt,” the Asian’s voice whispered in his ear.</p><p>The pain stopped and the man reappeared in his line of sight. He stroked a hand through his sweaty hair and Callen fought to find the strength to at least try and cringe away, however futile with the restraints. He couldn’t though, instead endured the man’s touch that moved down his cheek and further down his neck. It was repulsing, and he felt the hatred surge through him.</p><p>The Asian smiled and backed off, stepping behind him for the pain and the pictures to once more blend together.</p><p>Kensi and Deeks coming out of the boatshed, obviously bantering if their smiles were anything to go by.</p><p>Sam out on a run, focused on nothing but keeping his rhythm.</p><p>“You’re hurting because of them and they are allowing you to be hurt,” the voice whispered, “no one is looking for you. They don’t care about you. No one ever did.”</p><p>The pain subsided and he sucked in a breath, his lungs refusing to take in enough air. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the physical or the emotional pain running through him.</p><p>His family.</p><p>No. He tried to shake his head, clear it of the drugs while the Asian waited in front of him. Again, the man reached out. “I care,” he murmured, brushing moisture from Callen’s cheek, “I can make this stop.”</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>The onslaught of pictures remained long after he had been brought back to the cell, mixing with memories, confusing the Asian’s prompts with what had really happened, the drugs messing with his brain.</p><p>Sam beating him up in a mission, allegedly pulling his punches… when he did anything but.</p><p>The team looking at him funny when he admitted to some things he had done during his time at the Agency.</p><p>Hetty lying, keeping information to herself. Information about him.</p><p>“No,” he screamed weakly, his voice hoarse, “leave me alone!” Callen drew his hands up over his head, curling into a fetal ball to protect himself, protect whatever of himself he had left.</p><p>The door opened and within moments, the Asian was there, drawing him close against his body, stroking a hand through his hair and down his skin. “Shhhh, you’re safe.”</p><p>He didn’t want to, wanted to hate the man, some part of his consciousness still very much aware of what was being done to him, while the rest of him surrendered. “No more,” he whispered as his hands balled into fists around the fabric of the man’s shirt. “Please. No more.”</p><p>Xxxxxxx</p><p>If he hoped surrendering would bring an end to the suffering, he was horribly and painfully mistaken.</p><p>“Kill her,” the demand was firm.</p><p>His brief moment of hesitation was enough to make the Asian step out of his line of vision and for the pain to start again. Drugs were again messing with his head and also with his body. Even the smallest of currents translated into a raging inferno that brought him to his knees.</p><p>Callen whimpered when the pain slowed, allowed himself to be drawn against his captor’s chest, seeking strength and comfort.</p><p>Some part of him knew that this man was responsible for his suffering, but his subconscious had been forcefully conditioned, rewired and reconfigured.</p><p>“Stand up and follow your orders.”</p><p>He stood and brought the gun up again, only to hesitate once more and find himself back down on the floor, a soothing hand stroking through his hair.</p><p>“Why are you fighting so hard? They’ve done nothing to deserve your devotion.”</p><p>There was an instinctive reaction of refusal, memories trying to rise to the surface but he pushed them down, fearing the repercussions of looking at the old memories, knowing they would bring pain, internalized suffering. He locked them down in the back of his mind.</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>…</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>…</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>They went round and round. Hesitation, followed by pain, followed by comfort.</p><p>He didn’t know how many sessions, how many hours and days it took until eventually, resistance bled out of him and he raised his weapon, firing in rapid succession until the magazine clicked empty.</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>…</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>…</p><p>“Again.”</p><p>Time once more lost all meaning as he went through one assassination after another, shooting at the video game like pictures of what had once been his friends and family, what was now a source of pain and agony.</p><p>Until, finally…</p><p>“You’re ready to complete your task.” A gentle touch to the back of his head made him lower the weapon and submit to the man’s hold.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Smoke...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter might make you not like me for most of it (you know why when you’re reading), but bear with me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Callen quietly crept upstairs, still remembering after all these years which stairs to evade so as not to make a sound.</p>
<p>Shawn - Hetty’s replacement for Duke who had been killed several years ago when her identity had been compromised - was already down for the count. Callen had left him at the bottom of the stairs. He was alive, but wouldn’t give him any trouble. His orders were to kill his team, but he would try to evade collateral damage at least.</p>
<p>The ex-SAS man had been surprised by Callen’s appearance and while that wasn’t enough to give him a lasting advantage, Callen had been able to overpower the man.</p>
<p>He quietly eased the door to Hetty’s bedroom open, watching her sleep for several seconds, angered by the easy way she rested. He had been tortured for what had to have been weeks and here she was sleeping peacefully. Resentment was burning through him in a fiery wave, scorching the ground.</p>
<p>He didn’t give himself another moment, fearing the repercussions of hesitation, the pain that his body managed to dredge up by itself without outward stimulus by now.</p>
<p>Sneaking forward, he reached for one of the pillows, smirking maliciously when he remembered a conversation he’d had with Hetty years ago. “<i>When the time comes, you can smother me with a pillow. Make sure it’s synthetic. I’m allergic to feathers</i>.”</p>
<p>Considering it was one of her own pillows he held, he doubted an allergic reaction would be a problem… then again, not much would if she were dead.</p>
<p>With that thought, he pounced, knowing Hetty was prone to waking up if he stared at her too long and knowing that despite her age and deceptively small size, she would be a formidable foe. He pushed the pillow down, waiting for her struggles to finally slow.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>He had returned to the Asian as per his orders, had brought with him pictures of Hetty’s body. The Asian in turn showed him video footage from Hetty’s mansion, quietly praising him for his success and Callen was glad he had taken precautions, glad he hadn’t backed out. He had been watched by his tormentor on the video feeds.</p>
<p>While the Asian dictated the end result, he had been allowed to choose the means by which he would kill each member of his team.</p>
<p>Hetty was the first to go.</p>
<p>Sam would be the next.</p>
<p>Distantly, he knew that the Asian was first taking out what the old Callen would have considered his staunchest supporters and most sturdy safety net. This Callen now… he was alone in his mission and he didn’t care how it ended or where it began.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen woke, shrinking back and scrambling away when someone touched him. He blinked rapidly, shivering and wedging himself defensively into the corner of the couch in OSP.</p>
<p>Nell was blinking back at him and he barely kept himself from flinching, his body again remembering pain upon seeing one of his team mates, people he was being made to eliminate. He averted his gaze, hoping it would be enough to lessen the sizzling pain that raced up and down his nerves.</p>
<p>“Easy, you’re safe,” Nell intoned quietly and he wanted to sink into the reassurance, wanted to but couldn’t, because he <i>wasn’t</i> safe. Nell let go of the blanket she had obviously planned to spread over him. “Where have you been, Callen? You’ve been gone for ten weeks.”</p>
<p>Ten weeks.</p>
<p>It had taken ten weeks to break him.</p>
<p>Callen glanced away, briefly let his gaze wander around the mostly deserted main floor in Ops, forcing himself out of the defensive curl.</p>
<p>“I got away,” he muttered, nearly feeling his eyes glaze over upon the words, drummed (beat, electrocuted) into his brain by the Asian. He was to say he escaped, to reintegrate himself quickly and effortlessly back into the team. He could have assassinated them from a distance, but they held a hand in his suffering and he wanted to be close when they died. He had told the Asian that and his captor had allowed him to determine the way he killed them.</p>
<p>Nell, sweet Nell though… Callen recoiled once more when she made to reach for him. “Don’t,” he muttered before abruptly standing and striding away from her, away from the main area. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before the team got there. Nell would alert them - if Eric hadn’t already done so.</p>
<p>True to his expectation, Sam stepped into the gym only a little while later.</p>
<p>Callen sat with his back against a wall, his head on top of his arms. He knew he couldn’t take too long or the Asian would become suspicious. He knew what would happen if the man got suspicious, if he hesitated too long. He swallowed the whimper of agony and helplessness.</p>
<p>He didn’t know up from down anymore, felt he didn’t remember who he really was, had lost the connection to everything that he had been before. Everything was a confusing mix of pain and fear and desperation that he hadn’t ever felt before.</p>
<p>“G?” the question was quiet and gentle, in contrast to the feelings of pain Sam’s presence brought and he felt himself choking, shaking slightly from the strain of holding himself together.</p>
<p>Sam’s touch made him scramble away, the resulting pain in Sam’s eyes shaking his focus and crowding his mind. This man never meant him any harm… and yet… pain sizzled up and down his being and Callen curled up on the floor, his arms over his head.</p>
<p>“Stop, stop. No more,” he whispered, more to himself than anybody else.</p>
<p>He was drawn up off the floor and cradled carefully against a strong chest. The smell was wrong though. It wasn’t his tormentor/captor/stronghold. Instead his senses were assaulted by his partner’s aftershave, his hold completely different yet equally safe… infinitely safer.</p>
<p>Inside of his mind, two worlds crashed and collided, tearing him into pieces.</p>
<p>Still, he needed to carry on. He had started this. He needed to finish it. He couldn’t take the pain anymore. He needed to do what was expected so he could be free from the pain.</p>
<p>Callen drew away from Sam, his gaze down, holding onto the pain and determination, breathing it in and hiding it from sight.</p>
<p>“I need to get out of here,” he whispered, knowing it would be everything that was needed to prompt Sam into coming with him, everything he needed to lure the other man into the trap he had set up.</p>
<p>And Sam didn’t disappoint. “Alright, let’s take a ride and get you sorted out.”</p>
<p>Callen followed his partner out of the gym, ignoring their colleagues and superiors. Hetty’s desk remained empty, would continue to be empty.</p>
<p>He glanced away, knowing this was his doing but equally knowing he was powerless to stop it, powerless against the torture that had beaten him down.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Everything worked just as expected. Sam got them some coffee from a street vendor before he took them down to the beach. Callen hated that his partner knew him so well, knew his favorite haunts, places he came to when he was in turmoil. He hated that he would taint this place with what he was about to do.</p>
<p>He held on to the plastic mugs during the ride, not raising his eyes to his partner, intensely focused on the mugs and what he was about to do, unable to stand any more pain from looking at his friend.</p>
<p>When Sam got out of the car, prompting him to do the same, he snuck the crushed powder of the sedative into his partner’s coffee and gave the mug a good swirl to dissolve the drug.</p>
<p>After weeks of captivity, he knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to overpower his partner without some additional help.</p>
<p>Now all he had to do was fend off questions and bide his time.</p>
<p>It took a while, but eventually he noticed Sam’s movements slowing down with lethargy. He hated himself for what he was doing, but he was powerless to do anything else. While some small part of himself still rebelled his actions, Callen knew he would have to carry on.</p>
<p>“You good?” he asked his partner quietly, barely glancing at him, wary of the pain that looking, seeing his friends always brought these days.</p>
<p>Sam just offered an indistinct murmur and Callen nodded to himself. Time to go. He needed to get Sam back to the car and he wouldn’t be able to carry him, so his partner would have to remain somewhat awake until he could take him out.</p>
<p>Standing, he drew the other man up, stabilizing him when Sam swayed. It took all of his remaining strength to make sure they got back to the Challenger. Callen turned his friend against the car’s side before reaching into Sam’s pocket for the keys. The fact that he knew exactly where to find the keys brought another pang of guilt for what he was doing, using that knowledge and trust against Sam. The brief moment of hesitation was followed by a cringe when he expected the jolt of electricity to blaze through him.</p>
<p>When the brief surge of startled expectation ebbed away, he opened the trunk. Sam glanced blearily at him, questioning but still trusting.</p>
<p>Callen bit back the guilt and shifted behind his partner, his arm quickly snaking up around his neck and applying a choke hold. Sam struggled weakly, against him and against the drugs that were dulling his senses, but Callen simply held on, hiding his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, guilt and desperation surging powerfully through him.</p>
<p>When Sam finally succumbed to the hold, he lowered his partner into the trunk, tucking him in. The pain and despair ebbed away, leaving a malicious intent that shocked him. “That’s for all the times you’ve put me into the back of the trunk,” he muttered, hardening his heart against what he was doing yet again. He threw the trunk closed, hanging his head briefly before he stepped forward.</p>
<p>He could only hope that the rest of his plan went just as well.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Aside of a brief stop along the way to bind Sam’s hands, he drove straight to where he was expected by his captor. He glanced around the area and sighed upon the sight. The parking lot was empty aside of one other car and he rolled up beside it.</p>
<p>Callen got out and stopped a short distance away from the Asian. He bowed his head down, submissive and exhausted.</p>
<p>“Your partner?”</p>
<p>He gave a small nod and stepped over to the trunk, opening it. Sam lay just the way he had left him, though he was somewhat awake and moving sluggishly under the influence of the sedative. Callen simply held him down, his hand planted on Sam’s chest.</p>
<p>He glanced briefly at the Asian and saw victorious satisfaction. Callen glanced back away.</p>
<p>“You haven’t killed him yet,” the man noted, his voice calm but hinting at the darkness.</p>
<p>Callen felt himself react instantly, wincing and curling his shoulders forward, expecting pain to come hurtling through him at what could be perceived as hesitation. “He… he…” Callen stuttered before forging on, “he’s a SEAL. What better way to kill him than by having his own element defeat him?” His voice slid into an angry growl even though his body still trembled with the expectation of pain. “Plus, he hates confined spaces… this is for all the times he put me into that trunk.”</p>
<p>The Asian laughed, again that melodic and cold laugh that he had heard often before, a laugh that made bile climb in his throat.</p>
<p>Callen slowly allowed himself to relax when no punishment was coming.</p>
<p>“Well then,” the Asian said mildly, waving his hand towards the water, “go ahead.”</p>
<p>He nodded and closed the trunk carefully before getting back into the car and positioning it in front of the ramp. Yachts were lowered into the water from these ramps, but today they served a different purpose. He got out of the car without applying the brakes.</p>
<p>Not giving himself a moment to hesitate, fearing the pain he would endure if it looked like he hesitated, he physically pushed the car forward, letting momentum and gravity do the rest and watching as it rolled into the murky waters of the harbor.</p>
<p>The Asian came up beside him and reached up to caress the back of his neck in a gesture more proprietary than comforting. Callen forced himself not to cringe away, knowing he wouldn’t like the consequences if he did. Instead, he lowered his head.</p>
<p>“Well done. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>He followed his tormentor over to the waiting car, got into the backseat beside the man without another glance.</p>
<p>Two down, four to go.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen returned to OSP the next day, feeling worse for wear. The Asian had yet again reminded him of what would happen if he defied his orders. The torture chamber that had been set up here was nowhere near as sophisticated as the one in China - as it had been indeed China where he had been brought to, the return flight interminably long now that he didn’t spend it drugged unconscious - but it made do.</p>
<p>Another piece of him broke when included into the stream of pictures for his conditioning were now the surveillance stills from Hetty’s mansion and pictures of Sam in the back of the trunk.</p>
<p>His doing. He was responsible for this.</p>
<p>His muscles had still been twitching when the Asian had let him go. At least the scrutiny lessened after Callen had completed the first two assassinations and the Asian let him go. The man’s confidence into his compliance had grown with the first two successful assassinations and after the torture session that Callen had allowed himself to be guided to like a lamb to the slaughter.</p>
<p>It was still early when he entered OSP, perfect timing for what was planned. Usually, at this time of the day, only the two techs would be in Ops. The Asian may be indifferent to collateral damage, but Callen wasn’t.</p>
<p>Facing the two techs was hard though, trying to talk with them before he initiated the sequence of events that would lead to their demise… he rubbed a hand over his face. He drew up on all of his undercover training to become someone else or he wouldn’t be able to converse with them without buckling under the pain. As it was, it was difficult enough, small jolts of pain running through him whenever he slipped or whenever he gazed at them too long.</p>
<p>Eventually, Callen pushed the button on his phone and moments later, red lights were flashing through Ops. Nell and Eric swiveled to their stations and began typing. Within moments, the manipulated feeds were up on the big screen, showing the imminent breech of the building by multiple invaders.</p>
<p>All of them stared at the screen for a few seconds before Callen began to move. He reached for the techs and drew them up.</p>
<p>“Come on, go,” he told them firmly, pushing them ahead of himself, down the stairs and towards the incarcerator room.</p>
<p>“What about you?”</p>
<p>“I’ll take care of this,” he told them calmly.</p>
<p>“Callen, you’re not in any state…”</p>
<p>He narrowed his eyes at Nell and shoved her forcefully ahead of himself, “do not finish that sentence. Inside, wait there!”</p>
<p>There was a brief flash of fear in her eyes and she swallowed before nodding. Callen forced his expression back under control and gave her a small - fake - smile. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”</p>
<p>He closed the door behind the techs and locked it, making sure they wouldn’t be able to get out this way and try to do something stupid.</p>
<p>Callen turned and went back to the main part of the building, briefly glancing around before heading to the entrance and taking out his phone, pushing another button as he stepped outside. A series of explosions could be heard and he knew the fire would quickly be spreading through the building and then the underground tunnels below. He had employed his training to make sure the building was razed to the ground.</p>
<p>The bitter tang of bile tickled the back of his throat.</p>
<p>Watching the flames engulf the building made his heart stutter though, made another piece of himself break.</p>
<p>That place had been home for a long time, symbolized relaxation and safety. Now it was burning, would be collapsing into itself… just like his strength, his faith and security had.</p>
<p>Eventually, he turned away from the dancing flames, forcing himself to move on, to leave the area before the firefighters were alerted and came to the rescue… there would be no recue to be done here.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Both Kensi and Deeks appeared dazed when he met with them at the boatshed.</p>
<p>Their sanctuary had been breached and destroyed. Even worse, Hetty and Sam had dropped off the radar and Nell and Eric were missing. The firefighters were still working on the building, but it would take days to clear it.</p>
<p>They were floundering. The team was in shambles, without guidance (Hetty), without strength (Sam) and without technical support (Nell and Eric).</p>
<p>He had planned it exactly this way, knew that the last trap was just a finalization of prior plans.</p>
<p>Callen watched his two remaining team mates, suppressing the by now well known and despised flinch the sight provoked. The reaction had been instilled (electrocuted) into him and his subconscious had a hard time coming to grips with it. He was still mainly using an undercover persona to get by, somehow still able to do that even though he was completely exhausted and at the end of his rope.</p>
<p>It was time to finish this.</p>
<p>He pushed away from the main table, briefly returning Kensi’s gaze when she glanced up before shying away from the eye contact. “I’ll just step outside,” he mumbled to the floor before heading to the entrance.</p>
<p>“Callen?”</p>
<p>Deeks voice rang out behind him and he turned his head slightly, unable to bring himself to glance at his team mates (targets) again but showing that he was listening.</p>
<p>“We’ll get through this… together.” The words were quiet, gentle and strong. It was that determination that made him continue with what he had planned.</p>
<p>He needed to carry on.</p>
<p>Once outside, he stopped close to his car, turning to watch the boatshed one last time and counting down the seconds. Eventually, he took out his phone and initiated the last sequence in this plan.</p>
<p>Despite expecting it, he flinched when the explosion rocked the harbor, the boatshed disintegrating in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>Wanting to sink to the floor, knowing he couldn’t, he reached deep inside of himself, finding that tiny remaining reservoir of strength and feeding on it. It was nearly over.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>When he stepped inside the warehouse, the Asian’s temporary headquarters, he felt empty. Exhaustion and emotional pain were tearing him apart from the inside out.</p>
<p>He had done what he had been made to do, had done what he could and he hoped it was enough.</p>
<p>Callen surrendered his service weapon and let himself be guided further into the room. He dreadfully glanced at <i>the chair</i>, hoping he wouldn’t be pushed into it, hoping he wouldn’t be forced to endure that again for the sake of this sick game. He knew he would do it, would hold on if the Asian commandeered it. It was what he had been trained to do: endure and prevail.</p>
<p>He doubted there would be much more for him to endure. This journey would end here.</p>
<p>Callen swallowed the whine when he was indeed guided over to the chair. He fell into it, boneless and done. He had been traumatized for weeks, had been tortured, had his insides rearranged, his mind played tricks on and his whole being reconfigured. He had done the man’s shady bidding, against his better judgment, to try and escape from the endless pain and suffering.</p>
<p>He watched the Asian, exhausted and resigned. The man stood up and came around to his side of the table, leaning against it.</p>
<p>“I have to admit, Agent Callen, I wasn’t sure if you could be broken down. It took way longer than it did with anyone else before. You see, I am a master of my trade, but you resisted admiringly,” the Asian told him and while the words washed over him, they held no meaning. He had been broken eventually, it didn’t matter how long it had taken. “Of course, it was most pleasurable to have such a skilled and resilient opponent. Eventually, you did a good job, following orders to take your team down like a good soldier.”</p>
<p>The touch was expected, the stroke of fingers down his cheek - gentle, calming, caring, and it was such a contradiction to the man’s intentions, to his whole being, that Callen wanted to vomit. He lacked the strength to do even that though too, felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut.</p>
<p>He only wished for this to end.</p>
<p>He sighed softly when behind him, the doors burst open.</p>
<p>“Federal agents! Hands up. Step away from him.”</p>
<p>Sam’s voice was the first he heard and Callen gave himself a moment of relief before he slid off the chair, dropping to the floor, both so that he wouldn’t be in his team mates’ lines of fire and because he simply had <i>nothing</i> left to give.</p>
<p>The distance between the seat and the floor was small, but it might as well have been a light-year for the eon it took before his shoulder crashed down hard onto the concrete. He curled up and started shivering, unable to hold in everything he had held close to his chest for the eternity of the last weeks.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, you should know by now that I love throwing curveballs. *evil grin* <br/>Not everything is as it seems. Next chapter will explain. ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. ... and Mirrors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>… and this is what actually happened without me leaving out all the crucial parts and just narrating the bare backbone. *smirks*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wearing clothes again for the first time in what had to be weeks had been a strange feeling, but not as strange as returning to the world, a world that had gone on and remained the same while everything he was had undergone reconstruction in a forceful hostile takeover.</p>
<p>Returning to L.A. had been a strange mix of hope and despair. Resisting the Asian’s brainwashing had drained him and Callen held onto his sanity by his fingertips. He wasn’t sure if he could indeed win against the man who had tormented him for weeks, but he would do his damn best to keep his people safe.</p>
<p>Breaching Dovecote was difficult for most people. Callen wasn’t most people though and even though his body was exhausted, pain tingling through him, over stimulated nerves complaining and muscles burning, he could still covertly enter the place he had once called a home. He could do it blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back - a theory he had tested in his sometimes misspent youth against Hetty’s better judgment.</p>
<p>Callen pressed himself against the wall inside of the entrance, deep in the shadows. He knew he needed to wait. Shawn would be making his rounds. The man didn’t stick to a pattern, neither time wise nor route wise. This was the best place for an ambush, to remain undetected until it was too late.</p>
<p>He waited patiently, two minutes passing, then five. Eventually, he heard the soft tread of footsteps.</p>
<p>He knew the ex-SAS operative well, had helped Hetty find and vet him… and had tested his readiness and strengths maybe once or twice (or several times) before he had been satisfied he could entrust him with Hetty’s safety.</p>
<p>Once Shawn was within reach, Callen sprang into action, coming up behind the man and instantly going for a choke hold. “Shawn, it’s Callen,” he murmured breathlessly, wincing at the elbow that sank into his abdomen, “please, I need your help.” He heard the desperate tone of his voice and obviously Shawn heard it as well for his struggles paused briefly. “Cameras,” Callen hinted, “make it look good.”</p>
<p>He was glad when the man didn’t seem fazed, instead once more pretended to try and get Callen’s arm away from his neck, slowing his struggles accordingly to the time it would take for a choke hold to take effective. Callen allowed himself a brief moment of relief, glad he had gotten to know the man well over the years and established a rapport with him that allowed this level of trust.</p>
<p>He carefully maneuvered the man down, shielding his head when he rested it against the floor. Shawn’s eyes were closed, but the subtle remaining tension in him let Callen know he was playing possum. He knelt over the man, his back to the camera, shielding them from view. “Stay down here. There’s a hit on the whole team and I’m supposed to be the reaper.” He put a piece of paper into the man’s trouser pocket. “Follow the instructions, beware of the cameras. I’ll make contact as soon as possible.”</p>
<p>He knew he was asking for a lot of trust, especially with what little he could disclose in the short amount of time. Callen was suspicious that the video footage would be watched and if he spent too much time down here, if he seemed to hesitate…. he winced, his nerves twanging painfully, his body well aware of the repercussions.</p>
<p>Callen stood and left Shawn where he was. He made a brief stop in Hetty’s library, knowing there were no cameras in there but a treasure trove of additional gear. There was one thing in particular that he needed.</p>
<p>Within moments, he backed out of the room, making it look like he had been checking it for Hetty’s whereabouts. Climbing the stairs, he hoped the ex-SAS soldier would let this play out. He stepped around the stairs that would creak, knowing that the sound might alert Hetty. He couldn’t have her waking before he followed through with the supposed hit, had planned this in a certain way so that it would be most believable for the Asian who he was pretty sure was watching.</p>
<p>He quietly eased the door to Hetty’s bedroom open, watching her sleep for several heartbeats. He was surprised by the anger and resentment that flashed through him upon seeing her sleep soundly, the sentiment conditioned by weeks of torture and brainwashing. Still, he fought against it, his whole being quailing against the unjust treatment and the unforgiving position he had been maneuvered into. He didn’t give himself another moment, fearing the repercussions of hesitation, the pain that his body managed to dredge up by itself without outward stimulus after weeks of it being electrocuted into his subconscious.</p>
<p>Sneaking forward, he reached for one of the pillows. “<i>When the time comes, you can smother me with a pillow. Make sure it’s synthetic. I’m allergic to feathers</i>.” Again, malice sliced through his veins, less dark humor than actual, real malice. He swallowed against it and forced his body back under his control, knowing if he slipped now, he might just do the Asian’s bidding despite his best efforts to cripple China’s plans.</p>
<p>Callen shook himself and then strode forward, jumping onto the bed. One hand forced the pillow down while he stuck the dart he had taken out of the library into Hetty’s upper arm. This time it was mostly mirth that suffused him when he thought this was payback for all the times Hetty decided to stick needles into them… mostly. He still wasn’t <i>quite</i> sure were the mirth ended and where the malice began.</p>
<p>Again, his actions were covered by his body, having angled himself so he would shield the dart from view.</p>
<p>Hetty’s struggles were brief, the paralytic the dart had been coated with acting quickly and effectively. He lifted the pillow away from her mouth and nose, but left it over her eyes in case they remained open, worrying his ruse might be detected otherwise… and unable to look the woman in the eye after what he had just done. He snapped several pictures with the phone he had been provided before allowing himself a moment of weakness.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hanging his head down. “Please trust me.”</p>
<p>He watched her chest for movement, satisfied when her breathing was there but barely noticeable. Standing, Callen left the room, returning downstairs and glancing at Shawn who hadn’t moved from where he lay. Once he was outside of the camera’s angle, he stopped for a second. “Give it ten minutes, then put things into motion.”</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Returning to the Asian had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, way beyond what had transpired at Dovecote just a little earlier. He returned knowing he would be hurt again, knowing the Asian would want to impart his power over him once more.</p>
<p>It turned his insides into ice, his stomach into knots, but he was determined to follow through. He had put into motion the only plan he’d had been able to come up with and he would continue with it, playing a dangerous game, hiding his true intentions as best as possible from his tormentor. If he didn’t manage to pretend, to hold back the reality of his still only partially compromised mind, the repercussions would be even more damaging.</p>
<p>If the Asian became aware that his mind had been fractured but not shattered, he would stop at nothing to finish what he had started and Callen doubted he could hold on against a second, worse onslaught.</p>
<p>It had taken every ounce of willpower, resilience and skill that he possessed to hold on against the Asian’s torture and do it in a way the other man wouldn’t become aware of his resistance. He wouldn’t manage to do it a second time.</p>
<p>Pictures of his mentor stared back at him from the phone screen and he was glad that the usual surge of dread upon seeing a known and treasured face was currently absent, overshadowed by the guilt for what he had done and the hope that he could pull this off. Still, he recoiled, seeing the Asian smile in delight at his reaction.</p>
<p>The video the Asian had from the security footage was no surprise but rather a confirmation of what he had suspected. He didn’t know how the Asian had managed to get into Hetty’s security system, but he was glad that he had planned for that possibility, had taken counter measures and made sure to keep any damning moves furtive and hidden.</p>
<p>The only warble in the plan was when the Asian pointed out that the bodyguard had survived and carried Hetty away fifteen minutes after Callen had left.</p>
<p>Callen forced himself to answer in a monotone voice, explaining that Hetty had left specific orders in case of death. He didn’t flinch away from the Asian’s hold of his chin as he relayed the details of what those orders had been, a quick and quiet cremation before her ashes were to be scattered. The man’s eyes bore into him, but since it was the truth, wrapped in an omission, the man wouldn’t be able to detect a lie in his eyes. Eventually, the Asian smiled mildly and nodded, stroking his fingers down Callen’s cheek.</p>
<p>That was when the restraints came back on and Callen resigned himself to renewed hours of pain, renewed hours of struggling against the onslaught of having his mind screwed with.</p>
<p>He prepared himself for the oncoming pain while also directing his mind to what would come after.</p>
<p>Sam would be the next.</p>
<p>Just as with Hetty, he would have no way to warn his partner. He needed to follow through with what he had planned. Hetty and Sam were the two key figures that could make or break his plan. If they vetoed it, he wouldn’t be able to go against them… to circumvent that, he couldn’t give them any option to veto the plan.</p>
<p>Plus, he had doubted he would be afforded much time alone beforehand to clue them in on the plan. He had been brought to Hetty’s place by the Asian’s guards and then returned here. If he took too long with doing the deed, he risked everything crumbling to ashes and for the Asian to get away to try another day.</p>
<p>He hoped that things would get easier once Hetty and Sam were out of the way. The Asian knew a lot about him, knew that Hetty and Sam were his staunchest supporters and most sturdy safety net. He could only hope that the man would believe Callen easier to control if those two were gone. It was most certainly why the Asian had made him go for Hetty and Sam first.</p>
<p>For Callen though… for the moment, he was alone in his mission and he didn’t care how it ended or where it began.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen woke, shrinking back and scrambling away when someone touched him. He blinked rapidly, shivering and wedging himself defensively into the corner of the couch, his hands coming up in a defensive move. He had crawled onto the couch in OSP in the wee hours of the morning after having been brought here by the guards. His whole body was hurting and he wasn’t sure if he could really follow through with any of this.</p>
<p>Despite being pleased with Hetty’s supposed demise, the Asian had been brutal during their session, enforcing again and again what he had been conditioned to expect… the pain, the connection to his torturer and his mission.</p>
<p>The couch inside of the condemned building that disguised OSP had given him some sort of comfort, a reminder of good times, a tie to his real self that was lying battered and broken somewhere in a hidden corner of his mind.</p>
<p>Nell was blinking back at him and he barely kept himself from flinching, his body again remembering all the pain that had been inflicted whenever he laid eyes upon one of his team members.</p>
<p>He needed to hold himself together somehow.</p>
<p>“Easy, you’re safe,” Nell intoned quietly.</p>
<p>On the one hand, he wanted to sink into the reassurance, but on the other, the words made him want to vomit. It had been those same reassurances of safety and being alright that the Asian had whispered into his brain in the darkest hours of his pretended submission.</p>
<p>There was a blanket in Nell’s hands that she had obviously planned to spread over him. “Where have you been, Callen? You’ve been gone for ten weeks.”</p>
<p>Ten weeks? It felt like longer. He still didn’t have a frame of reference for the time spent in captivity, that hellish black hole of pain and agony. He wasn’t quite sure if ten weeks was a lot or if he should have held out longer.</p>
<p>“I got away,” he muttered, nearly feeling his eyes glaze over upon the words, words that had been drummed (beat, electrocuted) into his brain by the Asian.</p>
<p>He felt the walls closing in around him, couldn’t stand the gentle, concerned scrutiny of their analyst, couldn’t stand the way he needed to betray this team to keep them all safe… and all with the possibility of it crashing down around his ears. He had to hold on, but he was struggling every step of the way.</p>
<p>Nell obviously saw his struggles, but when she reached out to him, Callen recoiled as if burned. He couldn’t stand anyone’s contact, not after the Asian’s fingers had danced all over his skin, cradling, caressing, possessing. “Don’t,” he muttered before abruptly standing and leaving the room. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before the team got there. Nell would alert them - if Eric hadn’t done so already.</p>
<p>True to his expectation, Sam stepped into the gym he had retreated to only a little while later.</p>
<p>Callen sat with his back against a wall, his forehead on top of his arms, hiding his face from view. This would be difficult, lying to his partner who was so very well versed in reading him. The only thing he hoped would fortify him against Sam’s instincts was the one thing he didn’t want to do… sink into the experience of torture at the Asian’s hands and let it fill his mind and his being, sucking him into an ocean of despair, fear and agony.</p>
<p>He didn’t know up from down anymore, wasn’t sure he remembered who he really was. Everything was a confusing mix of pain and fear and desperation he hadn’t ever felt before. As long as he allowed that state to consume him, he could potentially keep Sam at bay, keep his real intentions hidden.</p>
<p>He knew he needed to act soon or his carefully crafted plans could lie in ruins. Callen thought the Asian still remained somewhat suspicious that someone from Callen’s life could dismantle all the brainwashing that had been done. He needed for his ruse to hold up for a while longer… until all the pieces were in place, until he could confide in Hetty and ask for guidance. He winced when his mentor’s face appeared in his mind, yet again awaiting the surge of electricity that he had been conditioned to expect, the pain his body managed to dish out without any external stimulus by now.</p>
<p>Callen jumped in surprise when his partner’s voice sounded close to him, having lost track of Sam’s position. “G?” the question was quiet and gentle, in contrast to the feelings of pain his presence evoked and he felt himself choking, shaking slightly from the strain of holding himself together.</p>
<p>Sam’s touch, meant to provide comfort and safety, made him scramble away. He saw the flash of confusion and shock on Sam’s face before Callen tore his gaze away, his body shaking from adrenaline and torment. This man never meant him any harm… and yet… pain sizzled up and down his body and he curled up on the floor, his arms over his head.</p>
<p>“Stop, stop. No more,” he whispered, more to himself than to his partner or anyone who might hear. Instantly, he flashed back into that stone-walled room of darkness, that moment where he had come so close to being broken, the moment where the Asian had cradled him and offered insincere reassurances of safety.</p>
<p>He was drawn up off the floor and cradled carefully against a strong chest, eerily reminiscent of <i>that</i> time. The smell was wrong though. It wasn’t his tormentor/captor. Instead his senses were assaulted by his partner’s aftershave, his hold different yet immeasurably safer.</p>
<p>Inside of his mind, two worlds crashed and collided, tearing him to pieces.</p>
<p>Still, he needed to carry on. He had started this. He needed to finish it.</p>
<p>After a mere few moments of allowing the hold, Callen drew away from Sam, his gaze down, internalizing the pain and determination, breathing it in and hiding it from sight.</p>
<p>“I need to get out of here,” he whispered somewhat urgently, knowing it would be everything that was needed to prompt Sam into coming with him, everything he needed to lure the other man into the trap he had set up.</p>
<p>And Sam didn’t disappoint. “Alright, let’s take a ride and get you sorted out.”</p>
<p>Callen followed his partner out of the gym, out of the building.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Everything worked just as expected. He followed his partner with his eyes downcast, unable to stand another surge of adrenaline and perceived pain when his friend’s face came into focus. His body had been doused by imaginary and real pain too often, the Asian’s conditioning strong and keeping him in a choke hold. It would take a long while to unlearn the conditioned reaction… if he would have time to unlearn it after everything was said and done.</p>
<p>Sam got them some coffee from a street vendor before he drove them down to the beach. Callen hated that his partner knew him so well, knew his favorite haunts, knew where he went if his mind was in turmoil. He hated that he would taint this place with what he was about to do… that he would drug his partner here and that he would allow the Asian to take over one of his refuges just by making him do this.</p>
<p>He held on to the coffee mugs during the ride, trying to keep the tremble from reaching his hands and not rising his eyes to his partner, intensely focused on the mugs and what he was about to do. He didn’t speak and Sam didn’t try to prompt him, most certainly aware of Callen’s instability and unwilling to push his partner until he could focus fully on him instead of on the traffic around them.</p>
<p>When Sam got out of the car, prompting him to do the same, he knew this was the only chance he got. He put the previously crushed powder of the sedative into his partner’s coffee and drew a measured breath. Phase two of his plan was about to really start now.</p>
<p>This, too, had been carefully preplanned. He knew his partner, knew the man’s reactions and what he would do. The only worry had been that Sam would insist he needed to be medically checked out. It was something he couldn’t allow yet, a time delay that wouldn’t work. He had carefully manipulated Sam into this direction though by the way he behaved in the gym.</p>
<p>He couldn’t admit – not even to himself - that it had been less of a display and more of a reality right now.</p>
<p>Callen sighed and got out of the car when Sam opened his door. He pressed the coffee into his partner’s hand. After weeks of captivity, he knew he wouldn’t be strong enough to overpower the former SEAL without some additional help - he had trouble taking his partner down on a good day, but in his current state he wouldn’t stand a chance. He hoped he had managed to use the right dose. He needed Sam barely conscious, but not totally under.</p>
<p>Now all he had to do was fend off questions and bide his time.</p>
<p>Callen followed his partner’s lead down to the beach, close to the water line. He shifted out of Sam’s reach when the other man made to reach for him. Instead he sunk down beside his partner when Sam aborted his move and simply sat down, waiting for Callen to follow.</p>
<p>The sound of the ocean reached for him and it brought a measure of comfort - as long as he didn’t think too strongly about what he was going to do.</p>
<p>Callen was somewhat surprised when Sam didn’t push too hard for answers, didn’t push too hard for Callen to confide in him. Maybe Sam realized he was closer to the edge than ever, closer than Callen admitted to himself even. Instead, they sat in silence.</p>
<p>It took a while, but eventually he noticed Sam’s movements slowing down with lethargy. He hated himself for what he was doing, but he was powerless to do anything else. He knew he would have to carry on so they could hopefully all survive this.</p>
<p>“You good?” he asked his partner quietly, barely glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, neither wanting the pain to sizzle up and down his nerves nor wanting to see what his actions were doing to Sam.</p>
<p>Sam just offered an indistinct murmur and Callen knew it was time to go. He needed to get Sam back to the car and he wouldn’t be able to carry him, so his partner would have to remain somewhat awake for a little while longer.</p>
<p>Standing, he drew the other man up, stabilizing him when Sam swayed. It took all of his remaining strength to make sure they got back to the Challenger. After weeks of torture, he wasn’t exactly in prime health, and he sighed in relief when he finally propped the former SEAL up against the car.</p>
<p>Swiping the keys and yet again hating himself for what he was about to do, he opened the trunk. Sam glanced blearily at him, questioning but still trusting. It was that expression of confused trust that nearly did him in and made him abort the whole damn thing. Fuck the repercussions, fuck the Asian.</p>
<p>Callen closed his eyes for a second and steeled himself to carry on. He bit back the sigh and shifted behind his partner, his arm quickly snaking up around his neck and applying a choke hold. Sam struggled weakly - against him and against the drugs that were dulling his senses - but Callen simply held on, hiding his face in the crook of Sam’s neck, guilt and desperation surging powerfully through him. Tears sprang to his eyes and he allowed them to leak out while he hid his face, allowed them to soak into the back of Sam’s shirt.</p>
<p>When Sam finally succumbed to the hold, he lowered his partner into the trunk, tucking him in. The pain and despair ebbed away and he was startled by the resurgence of the malicious intent he had felt back at Dovecote with Hetty, the malice that had been conditioned into him by manipulating his memories and emotions.</p>
<p>“That’s for all the times you’ve put me into the back of the trunk,” he muttered, hardening his heart against what he was doing yet again. He threw the trunk closed, hanging his head briefly before he stepped forward.</p>
<p>He could only hope that the rest of his plan would go just as well.</p>
<p>Some part of him rejoiced in executing this plan, satisfied with the way he had maneuvered the board to fit his needs. Another part wasn’t sure just how close to going through with the assassinations he really was, how much he was able to hold on against what the Asian wanted him to do.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>He made a brief stop at a deserted road not far from the harbor. The Asian was expecting him and while he knew he hadn’t been followed - he had warned the Asian that his partner was well versed in spotting tails and being discovered would make the assassination infinitely harder as it screwed with Callen’s plans - he knew he couldn’t take long to do what he needed to do to ensure Sam survived this.</p>
<p>Opening the trunk, he glanced briefly at his partner before fiddling with the locking mechanism of the trunk, manipulating the lock. The lock would hold for now if the trunk was given a firm shove, but when closed gently, the mechanism wouldn’t fully engage. Callen needed to ascertain that Shawn would be able to get to Sam as quickly as possible.</p>
<p>He could only hope that Hetty and Shawn were in place. Sam was at the moment still out of it. By the time they reached the harbor, Sam should be at least somewhat awake but still under the influence of the drugs, therefore having no means to save himself. If Hetty and Shawn weren’t in position, Callen would have to abort his plans and probably go out in a blaze of guns without the glory.</p>
<p>Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach and Callen drew a shaky breath before continuing on his way.</p>
<p>Overlooking the area when he reached the harbor, he saw the car the Asian’s guards drove. Again, there was a jolt of fear at the prospect of coming face to face with the monster that would haunt his mind for a long time to come. He pushed the man out of his mind and instead let his eyes roam around, looking for a sign that Hetty backed his play. He sighed in relief when his gaze fell onto an inconspicuous sign spray painted to a crate.</p>
<p>дове́рие</p>
<p>The Russian word for ‘trust’.</p>
<p>All air left him. Hetty and Shawn were here. They were backing his plan up, a plan he had hastily detailed on a piece of paper inside of the garden shed outside of Dovecote before he went inside to set it in motion and slip the information to Shawn.</p>
<p>Sam would be ok. Shawn would get him out. The ex-SAS soldier - the British version of the Navy SEALs - would be in the water and get Sam to safety. The man was as well trained in these kinds of missions as Sam was and Callen knew his partner was in good hands.</p>
<p>He rolled the Challenger up next to the Asian’s car.</p>
<p>Callen got out and stopped a short distance away from the Asian. He bowed his head down, showing submission and allowing the exhaustion to tumble through him, thereby satisfying the Asian’s need for dominance over him.</p>
<p>“Your partner?”</p>
<p>He gave a small nod and stepped over to the trunk, opening it. Sam lay just the way he had left him, though he was somewhat awake and moving sluggishly under the influence of the sedative. Their eyes connected briefly and Callen flinched slightly at the jolt running through him. He reached out and put a firm hand on Sam’s chest, holding him down when his partner made to sit up. He tapped his fingers against Sam’s chest twice, an old signal between them. He wasn’t sure how coherent Sam was, but his partner didn’t try to struggle further.</p>
<p>He glanced briefly at the Asian and saw victorious satisfaction. Callen glanced back away, hiding the surge of hatred and resistance. He needed to keep a lid on both, couldn’t have the Asian becoming suspicious.</p>
<p>“You haven’t killed him yet,” the man noted, his voice calm but hinting at the pain that would befall him if he didn’t do what the man wanted.</p>
<p>Callen felt himself react instantly, wincing and curling his shoulders forward, expecting pain to come hurtling through him at the man’s displeased tone of voice. This wasn’t a ploy. This reaction was very real and he hated his body for it, hated the way he had been conditioned, his self-assurance, his sense of self and his integrity stripped away. “He… he…” Callen stuttered before forging on, “he’s a SEAL. What better way to kill him than by having his own element defeat him?” He merged his voice into an angry growl even though his body still trembled with the expectation of pain. “Plus, he hates confined spaces… this is for all the times he put me into that trunk.” It was only partly a lie and again, Callen couldn’t help but wonder just how far this conditioning reached, just how much his actions were directed by the last weeks of torment.</p>
<p>The Asian laughed, again that melodic, cold laugh that he had heard often before, a laugh that he hated and feared in equal measure. Still, Callen slowly allowed himself to relax, guessing he had gotten around the punishment with that explanation.</p>
<p>“Well then,” the Asian said mildly, “go ahead.”</p>
<p>He nodded and closed the trunk carefully so as not to engage the lock before getting back into the car and positioning it in front of the ramp. Yachts were lowered into the water from these ramps, but today it served a different purpose. He got out of the car without applying the brakes.</p>
<p>Not giving himself a moment to hesitate, fearing the pain he would endure if he hesitated where the Asian could see, he physically pushed the car forward, letting momentum and gravity do the rest and watching as it rolled into the murky waters of the harbor. Inwardly, he crossed his fingers that everything would work the way he had planned it, that Shawn would be able to reach Sam before his partner came to harm. And that Sam would remain calm and not start fighting Shawn and blow the whole ruse.</p>
<p>Callen knew he had done all that he could, but he also knew that whatever was left of his mind would shatter completely if he happened to kill his partner.</p>
<p>He hoped that Sam would forgive him for this… and <i>this</i> included submerging his beloved Challenger in the harbor. He lowered his head to hide the amusing thought from his features… the Asian coming up beside him, reaching up to caress the back of his neck in a gesture more proprietary than comforting, helped in stopping all thoughts of mirth, instead dousing his body with dread once more.</p>
<p>Callen forced himself not to cringe away, knowing he wouldn’t like the consequences if he did. The touch was feared and hated, making his skin crawl for hours afterwards. It brought home yet again just how little of his life currently belonged to him, the liberty another person took with his body without his consent. He closed his eyes, once more hiding the disgust that would be visible in them in this moment.</p>
<p>“Well done. Let’s go.”</p>
<p>He followed his tormentor over to the waiting car, got into the backseat beside the man without another glance. He didn’t doubt that he would spend the next hours in more pain, but he also knew he needed to hold on. He knew that this would have to play out until the end with no regards to his personal safety, instead focusing on taking down a dangerous group of Chinese Agents working in their country and trying to kill their people.</p>
<p>He steeled himself for what was yet to come.</p>
<p>Two down, four to go.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>It was evening by the time the Asian let him go. Callen was glad that the man set him free at all, as it meant he would finally be able to touch base with Hetty and get her guidance. He was floundering right now, unsure on how to proceed. He did have a tentative plan, but he didn’t want to go through with that without Hetty’s permission. Destroying Sam’s Challenger was one thing, but destroying both OSP and the boatshed…</p>
<p>On top of that worry, there was another thing: both Hetty and Sam were well versed in adapting and compartmentalizing. He knew they wouldn’t suffer too badly for what he had made them go through (every tiny little bit of suffering was too much, and it fell on his shoulders, weighing him down) but the rest of his team, especially the techs, weren’t as proficient in these kinds of black op games and he didn’t want to be responsible for traumatizing them when he wasn’t sure that his way was the right way. He couldn’t be sure he hadn’t overlooked better options in his current state.</p>
<p>He was exhausted by the time he finally made it to the beach house he had asked Shawn to bring Hetty to. He had doubled back multiple times to make sure he wasn’t being followed, had stopped by his place and changed his clothes to make sure there was no tracking device anywhere on his person that could lead the Asian to where he was going. If there was a tracking device hidden in his clothes, it would now show him as being home. He had snuck out the back and crossed several neighbors’ backyards before emerging one street over and moving rather aimlessly around L.A. to make sure there was no one on his tail.</p>
<p>Callen heaved his aching body over the fence lining Hetty’s property. The sound of the ocean felt foreign and tainted with what had happened earlier in the day with Sam. He suddenly loathed that he had sent Hetty here instead of one of her equally secret properties high up in the hills. Callen felt sick to his stomach when he approached the house, unsure of his reception and even more insecure about how Sam was doing, if he had survived as planned.</p>
<p>He shrunk back when a figure stepped out of the shadows, instantly defensive until he recognized Shawn’s figure. He remained wary of the man, unsure if he would suffer at his hand for what he had done so far.</p>
<p>“Finally,” Shawn murmured softly when he stepped up in front of Callen, mustering him carefully. The tightening of the man’s features could be seen even in the semi darkness of the backyard but Callen couldn’t be sure of the reason for it. He shied away when it looked as if Shawn would reach for him, desperately uncomfortable with physical contact. Shawn stilled his movements and took a small step back, widening the distance between them to give him space. “They are waiting for you inside. Go on in.”</p>
<p>Callen gave the other man a small nod before he gave himself a mental push towards the veranda. Edging around the other man, he felt trapped with Shawn following behind, but forced himself to ignore it… it was just one more source of unease these days.</p>
<p>He hesitated briefly before sliding the door open, squinting slightly against the illumination. Once he stepped inside, he drew up short when he suddenly became the focus of two probing stares. Just the brief glance he took made phantom pain blaze through his body, sharp and unforgiving and Callen bit his lip until he tasted blood, barely swallowing down the yelp and managing to lock his knees to keep from falling. He quickly lowered his gaze to take away the sight that had prompted the pain.</p>
<p>When Sam stood, he shrunk back, nearly crashing into Shawn who was blocking the entrance behind him. Feeling cornered, Callen sidestepped and put his back against the wall, trying to keep his breathing under control and his body and mind from succumbing to the terror of his current existence.</p>
<p>He was distantly aware of Hetty motioning for Sam to sit back down, watched from under his lashes as his partner did just that. His eyes were drawn over to her figure and he tracked her movements when she stood from the easy chair, still keeping his eyes angled away from their faces. As long as he didn’t see their faces, he was somewhat able to hold himself together.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you join us for some tea, Mr. Callen?” Hetty proposed softly as if he had just stopped by for a Sunday afternoon visit. Still, her voice sank into him, soothing some of the hurt. At least the Asian hadn’t ruined that for him. Being unable to look at them without feeling pain sizzling through him was one thing, but being unable to confer with them verbally would be even worse.</p>
<p>Callen remained where he was, pressed against the wall, contemplating his current state of existence. He was a mess; simple as that. He wasn’t sure if he could keep himself going for much longer.</p>
<p>Callen shuddered and slowly lowered himself where he stood, sliding down the wall his back was pressed against, trying to focus on the solid strength of that wall. He drew his legs up and put his forearms on his knees. His body shook in reaction to all the pain and turmoil he was in and Callen closed his eyes with a soft whine before resting his forehead on his arms, hiding his face, trying to take deep breaths.</p>
<p>It was Shawn who crouched down in front of him. “Callen,” he murmured, “stay with us, alright? Look around. You’re at the beach house. You’re safe here. Help us understand the situation so that we can provide you with whatever support you need.”</p>
<p>He didn’t look up - couldn’t because that would make it worse - but felt somewhat comforted by the former SAS soldier’s presence. They had never been close as such, but had respected each other and Shawn had obviously seen something in him that prompted him to reach out now. Callen desperately needed someone - someone other than Hetty or Sam - to halt his fall. He felt connected to those two on a deep level, knew they would usually be the best persons to reach out to him, but that connection had been tarnished by weeks of pain and brainwashing. Shawn could potentially provide the hold he needed right now, provide the strength Callen lacked.</p>
<p>“I need to finish this,” he whispered, “but I don’t know how.”</p>
<p>“How about you start at the beginning?” Shawn prompted softly.</p>
<p>Callen recoiled at the thought. He didn’t think he could start at the beginning, wasn’t even sure if he could start at the end. He would have to settle for the highlights.</p>
<p>“China,” he started softly, “they… we…” he gulped and broke off, shivering nearly uncontrollably, feeling sick to his stomach when flashes of the last few weeks entered his mind, dousing him with all those feelings of pain and fear and desperation and hopelessness. Soft footsteps approached but he didn’t look up, <i>couldn’t</i> look up at Hetty. He tensed and pressed himself back further into the wall. The footsteps halted at a distance.</p>
<p>There was a momentary pause before Shawn spoke in a calm and quiet voice, “Callen, I’ll put a blanket around you.” Shawn waited for him to acknowledge the statement. Callen didn’t, but he held himself still when the fabric fell over his shoulders, instantly bringing a measure of warmth, a measure of comfort.</p>
<p>Hetty’s footsteps withdrew and it relaxed and saddened him in equal measures.</p>
<p>“Can I check your pulse?” Shawn’s question was soft, a bare murmur.</p>
<p>Callen warred with himself, knowing they would be itching to do something to help him, to get a handle on whatever situation they found themselves in, and at the same time unsure how he would fare with the physical contact. Eventually, he gave in and jerkily nodded his head within the confines of his forearms.</p>
<p>“Good,” Shawn said soothingly, “left wrist.” It was more a statement, a way to warn Callen than an order to stretch his arm out. Despite the warning, Callen flinched when the contact was made. “Easy, my friend. I’m not a threat to you.” The hold was gentle, mere two fingertips questing for the pulse point without much pressure. Still, it hurt, the skin somewhat abraded from the shackles and hematomas circling around his wrists. On top of the physical hurt, it also hurt deep inside, the way he shunned the contact, felt queasy with it. He had given permission, but it still felt as if his body didn’t belong to him anymore.</p>
<p>“His pulse is racing,” Shawn said quietly, more to the others than to Callen, because Callen knew, knew his heart was currently beating a furious rhythm inside of his chest, a chest that felt tight with anxiety. It was a flashback merging into a panic attack and he knew he had to derail it, knew he needed to remain functional. He tried to gulp in air, but his chest remained tight.</p>
<p>“Callen, you need to try and slow down,” Shawn coached softly, “put your head down further, slow your breaths.”</p>
<p>He jerked away with a whine when Shawn’s hand touched the back of his head, intending to guide it further down between his knees to help with his breathing.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Shawn apologized and instantly retracted his hand.</p>
<p>Callen just shuddered in response.</p>
<p>Suddenly, a weight sank down on his left. He knew Sam’s bulk, knew his partner’s intent, also knew he couldn’t stand it though and Callen flinched violently to the right, away from his best friend. “Please,” he whimpered, “don’t. Go, Sam, I can’t…”</p>
<p>It was again Shawn who reacted, most clearheaded of all the people in the room right now, able to act and be somewhat impartial. The ex-SAS soldier reached for Sam and forcefully pushed him away from Callen. “Go!” he enforced Callen’s plea.</p>
<p>Sam’s footsteps were halting and uneven when he stumbled away and Callen knew this would haunt them both.</p>
<p>He resisted the urge to vomit, to sink down and surrender. Instead he shuddered through the pain of the panic, Shawn’s presence steady and providing some sort of hold on reality. Callen slowly reached for the control he was famous for, tried to go past everything that had happened, everything that had been done to him and to continue on. His shaking slowly subsided and he fell still, straightening slightly from his hunched over position, his chest still heaving with each gulping breath. Eventually, he became aware of the murmur of Shawn’s voice and he distantly wondered when he had fallen so far that he lost touch with his immediate surroundings to not notice the man speaking to him.</p>
<p>“You back with us?”</p>
<p>Callen gave a small nod and uncurled further, slowly sitting up and leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes and deliberately slowed down his breathing. His chest hurt, his lungs felt tight. He needed to start talking, needed to get the facts out there. He was so incredibly exhausted though.</p>
<p>“I was brought to China…” he started slowly, “they were displeased with our involvement in countering their recent actions. They want the team stopped, wanted me to…” he swallowed, unable to bring himself to say it.</p>
<p>“They wanted you to be the reaper,” Shawn finished softly, using the same words Callen had used just last night in Hetty’s domain after he had taken Shawn down.</p>
<p>Callen nodded slowly. “I… they…” he sighed and shook his head, unable to bring himself to go there, to say the words, to admit out loud that he was a victim of torture and brainwashing.</p>
<p>To admit that he was a victim. Period.</p>
<p>“Eventually, I… agreed.” There was a big gap in his story and everyone in the room knew it.</p>
<p>“I needed to make him think I did his bidding. I couldn’t… I held on for as long as possible.” He swallowed with difficulty against the pain and the panic that colored his voice.</p>
<p>“Did the ruse work so far?” Shawn asked gently, keeping his attention from slipping back in time, away from the pain of what had happened and on the present.</p>
<p>“Yeah, he’s confident I followed his orders,” Callen affirmed quietly, lowering his head to glance at the floor between his knees. He hesitated. “Is Sam alright?” He knew Hetty was alright, for one because the paralytic he had used on her had made certain her struggles were brief and he hadn’t needed to keep suffocating her for more than a few moments (and for another because he was certain that Hetty had secret magical powers and would outlive them all). Sam on the other hand… the stunt Callen had pulled with him had had so many holes in it that Sam could have come to serious harm in multiple ways. He knew his partner was here and functional, but despite that, he needed the confirmation that Sam was doing alright.</p>
<p>He watched Shawn from under half raised eyelids, watched as the other man turned slightly to glance at Hetty and Sam who had settled back down on the lounge, giving them the space that Callen so desperately needed.</p>
<p>“I’m alright, G,” Sam’s voice was even and strong, soothing and comforting.</p>
<p>Callen let his eyes slip closed again and nodded, a relieved breath escaping. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.</p>
<p>“Nothing to be sorry for, partner,” Sam replied quietly and stood.</p>
<p>Callen glanced up and then instinctively shrunk backwards into the wall, forcing his eyes back down and away. He held up his hand, “don’t, Sam.” He was barely holding on, barely able to stand being in the same room with Hetty and Sam while everything was so close to the surface. He wouldn’t be able to stand physical contact with them right now. He was unhinged and defenseless. During the day when he had been with Sam, he had played a role, focused on the mission - the one the Asian had put him on as well as the one he had set for himself to do everything he could to counteract the Asian. He had been focused on what he had to do then, but right now, his walls lay in shambles and he couldn’t draw them up again. He needed to be himself for a little while and he needed to feel the reality of what had happened to him before, and what was happening now. Later, he would drag his walls back up to fight another day, once they had made plans, but right now he needed to be himself in any way possible so that he understood that he had survived.</p>
<p>Sam sat back down on the couch again.</p>
<p>“Where do we go from here, Mr. Callen?” Hetty asked gently, prompting him to continue, to focus on what had to be done.</p>
<p>“We need to take them out,” he murmured.</p>
<p>“After you’ve supposedly taken out the team?”</p>
<p>He shivered and nodded.</p>
<p>“Can you hold on that long?”</p>
<p>Again, he nodded, less decisive than before but still with enough conviction to get his point across.</p>
<p>“Can you, Mr. Callen?” Hetty asked again, her voice worried and probing. “Can you really do this? We can take them out before that.”</p>
<p>He pinched the bridge of his nose, keeping his eyes firmly closed. It was easier that way, less likely to bring the phantom pain that always raced through him when he saw their faces - no matter if it was photos, videos or reality. Like this, with his eyes closed, he could go on. “We need the evidence and his admission of guilt.” Callen let his head fall forward onto his forearms again, trying to hide his anguish. “He can never see the light of day again, can’t be allowed to run free.”</p>
<p>“But not at your expenses,” Hetty insisted firmly.</p>
<p>Callen gave a little shrug without changing his position. “I’m the only one who can end this the way we need.”</p>
<p>There was a brief moment of silence and he allowed himself to drift for those few moments, to sink into the quiet of the room, a quiet that for once didn’t come with stress positions or demands. Callen sighed and gave himself over to the feeling of security that being in the presence of these people brought, for it <i>was</i> security, <i>real</i> security even if his mind had been poisoned against it. These people meant him no harm, even if his body had been conditioned to expect it.</p>
<p>“Alright, Mr. Callen, what do you propose?”</p>
<p>“The others need to know,” he said firmly, “I can’t do to them what I’ve done with the two of you. I also can’t take them out directly.” Assassinating his mentor and his partner from up close had made him want to curl up and die, wither away. He couldn’t do that again with any more people he was close to.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Hetty agreed easily. “Shall we call them in, plan this together as a team like we always do?”</p>
<p>The thought made dread pool in the pit of his stomach. Having Hetty and Sam around was bad enough, adding the rest of the team… he wasn’t sure if he could keep himself from either bolting or breaking down again. Still, it would be better to include them. He would be able to instruct them better and they would hash the plan out, make sure it was as safe as they could make it. So in the end, there was only one way to go.</p>
<p>He gave a small nod of his head.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Shawn was an unobtrusive body of strength at his side and Callen was thankful for the other man’s presence. They waited mostly in silence until the rest of the team appeared, all of them having been warned to take precautions against being followed.</p>
<p>Callen accepted the cup of tea that Hetty brewed, but didn’t glance up at her when she put it within Shawn’s reach before he in turn forwarded it to Callen.</p>
<p>The sandwich she added remained untouched though. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, hadn’t been able to eat much lately without it coming right back up.</p>
<p>Callen stayed where he was on the floor when the rest of his team made it into their temporary headquarters.</p>
<p>Everyone drew to a stop upon the sight that greeted them. Callen hadn’t been there when the news of Hetty’s demise and Sam’s disappearance had broken, but he knew there was pain in that, felt the guilt for making his team endure this rest heavily on his shoulders.</p>
<p>Hetty’s and Sam’s continued health and safety were of course a relief to everyone. Callen wasn’t sure where he stood with them though, felt their gazes lingering on him for long moments. He never returned their glances, instead kept his eyes mostly closed or his gaze averted, his head tilted slightly downwards. Feeling their presence was enough to unsettle him, his body still weary of whether or not pain would be unleashed upon it, his heartbeat irregular and cold sweat clinging to his body.</p>
<p>Callen left it to Hetty and Sam to fill his team in on what little he had revealed to them before, knew he had to hold onto every tiny little grain of strength to make it through the next steps.</p>
<p>It was Sam’s prompt, the gentle intonation of his name falling from his friend’s lips, the quiet “G?” that made him snap back into reality and integrate himself into the planning.</p>
<p>He still didn’t shift from his position on the floor, didn’t look up. “They took me from right outside of OSP. Our locations have been compromised, Hetty.  First Matthias, then the investigation from the DOJ, the ambassador and the FBI unit, Thapa knew, the Five-O guys and let’s not forget our mole.” He doubted that their Hawaiian friends had talked and Thapa had died before he could have spilled… plus, the man had held tight to his integrity. The DOJ and the FBI he wasn’t sure about and neither could they be sure that Hetty’s old foe or their mole hadn’t given their location away.</p>
<p>To Callen, that building would never again be the refuge it had been before his abduction from right in front of it.</p>
<p>“The thought has crossed my mind a few times as well. Especially since you were taken,” Hetty admitted, “I’ve been looking for alternative locations for a while.”</p>
<p>Callen’s head snapped up, somewhat surprised and therefore forgetting why he kept his eyes closed. The reason came to him in a blinding flash of pain when he took in the assembly of his work family and he flinched violently, barely biting back the hiss, instead biting his tongue and making the flavor of blood once more pool in his mouth. He instantly turned his gaze away, squeezing his eyes shut, breathless with pain as he curled in on himself.</p>
<p>His brief lapse was noticed if the combined shifting was any indication.</p>
<p>“Stay where you are,” he said softly through clenched teeth, half plea and half order while he rubbed a hand against his chest where the phantom sensation of electrodes burned against his skin.</p>
<p>“What happened to you, Callen?” The question came from Deeks - always the one speaking his mind most freely.</p>
<p>Callen shook his head and let his forehead fall back to the shelter of his crossed arms on top of his knees. There went all that careful work from before, the near painless sense of just being in the presence of people that meant the world to him.</p>
<p>He hated the Asian.</p>
<p>For what had been done to him.</p>
<p>For what he had been forced to endure.</p>
<p>For what they made him do to his people.</p>
<p>For all the conditioning that haunted him now.</p>
<p>Callen swallowed with difficulty and waited for the last remnants of pain to fade, breathing through it.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t matter right now,” he said slowly, ignoring the drawn intake of one of his team mates who was about to contradict him, and forging on, “are you averse to leaving OSP behind, Hetty? OSP and the boatshed?” He brought the conversation back on track, away from the scrutiny of his person.</p>
<p>“Let’s hear your thoughts, Mr. Callen.”</p>
<p>“Usually, it’s just Nell and Eric who will be on site to start the day early in the morning. We can use that. Evacuate them through the tunnels and set fire to the building. No one should know about the tunnels, so their death would be a given for an outsider. The Asian is not as suspicious of possible setbacks anymore. Hetty and Sam were his worst opponents and those he feared could dismantle all the…” he stopped sharply, again unable to give voice to the words <i>torture</i> and <i>brainwashing</i>. Callen cleared his throat and pushed on. “Even if he has surveillance around OSP, he wouldn’t know about their survival since Nell and Eric won’t come out of the building anywhere he could see.”</p>
<p>“And the boatshed?”</p>
<p>“Kens and Deeks. Escape through the trap door. Explosion,” Callen explained shortly in bullet points, reaching the end of his rope… actually he suspected he was far past the end of it and already in free fall, awaiting the harsh landing.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Hetty said quietly, “let’s make this a working plan.”</p>
<p>He let the words wash over him, let the way the team just sprang into action and started hashing out the details ground him. He contributed mildly, all the while remaining in his corner of the room, on the floor, his eyes closed and his senses some part between dulled and hyperaware. Shawn remained beside him, the only presence he felt able to tolerate and yet a secure lifeline.</p>
<p>Before long, they had a plan and Callen left Hetty’s hideout. He had been invited to stay, but he still had a lot to do at OSP and he wouldn’t be comfortable in Hetty’s domain with both her and Sam present. Not right now, when he was too close to broken for comfort.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen returned to OSP the next day, feeling worse for wear. On top of the torture session with the Asian, meeting with first Hetty and Sam and then later with the whole team had sucked his strength.</p>
<p>Usually, the presence of these people was a source of strength, but with everything that had happened in the last weeks, every tiny little bit of conditioning the Asian had forced onto him, that meeting had sucked him dry. He had needed to keep a tight lid on his feelings, on the urge to bolt and on the constant expectation of agony.</p>
<p>Unlearning that conditioning would take time and strength, both of which he currently didn’t have.</p>
<p>After finishing his preparations in OSP and the boatshed during the night, listening to Sam’s guidance in his ear when his partner helped in setting the scene from afar, he had left the old building once more to clear his head and try to find a hold in a world that had lost all stability.</p>
<p>He had wandered the streets for several hours until dawn was breaking. Only then did he return to OSP.</p>
<p>Facing the two techs was difficult. He had been able to draw up his masks well enough to fool most people, but even against Nell and Eric, he felt unable to hold out today. As with every interaction lately, he tried to shy away from seeing their faces, keeping his eyes mostly on the ground.</p>
<p>Still, he knew he needed to be with them now. They knew of the plan, knew the sequence of steps that would soon start up, but it was still his job as a team leader to guide them and make sure everything went off without a hitch in the face of the dangerous reality they were now in.</p>
<p>Callen rubbed a hand over his face and tapped his fingers on the main table. Both techs fell silent upon the subtle, prearranged sign. Callen pushed the button on his phone and moments later, the lights started flashing red.</p>
<p>Nell and Eric swiveled to their stations and began typing. They knew what was happening, but in case anyone had access to the cameras inside of Ops, they were playing it safe. Within moments, the security feeds were up on the big screen, showing the imminent breech of the building by multiple invaders. Nell and Eric had manipulated the feeds and he had put the footage up on the servers last night in the unlikely event that someone came around snooping after everything was said and done… and in the even more unlikely event that any of their tech equipment survived to be checked over afterwards.</p>
<p>All of them stared at the screen for a few seconds before Callen straightened. He reached for the techs and drew them up from their chairs.</p>
<p>“Come on, go,” he muttered. Both techs were well aware of the plan, but he urged them on. He pushed them ahead of himself, down the stairs and towards the incarcerator room.</p>
<p>“What about you?”Nell asked, obviously needing confirmation of their plan.</p>
<p>“I’ll take care of this,” he told them calmly. He had some more things to do and wouldn’t follow through the tunnels. They wouldn’t see him for a while longer, not until their plan was completed.</p>
<p>“Callen, you’re not in any state…”</p>
<p>He narrowed his eyes at Nell and shoved her forcefully ahead of himself, “do not finish that sentence.” He was glad for the concern, really, but he couldn’t allow it. He couldn’t invite even the smallest niggle of doubt to enter his mind or their carefully crafted plans would crumble. His participation was integral to pull this off. Without him, they would leave loose ends.</p>
<p>“Inside, wait there!” The techs of course weren’t supposed to wait inside of the incarcerator room, but in case the Asian had access to their security feeds, he couldn’t mention the tunnels.</p>
<p>There was a brief flash of fear and Nell swallowed before nodding. Callen forced his expression back under control and gave her a small - fake - smile. He didn’t mean to scare her, but admittedly, this whole thing terrified him. At least, so far there hadn’t been the same flashes of malice and real anger that he had fought against when he had ‘assassinated’ Hetty and Sam. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”</p>
<p>He closed the door to the incarcerator room behind the techs and locked it.</p>
<p>Callen turned and went back to the main part of the building, briefly glancing around. This place had been home for a long time and knowing he was about to destroy it hurt, shattered another piece of his psyche. He was aware enough of his current state to understand that he would flounder without the familiarity of this place during his recovery. He took in the familiar sight and feeling of the Spanish mansion, trying to imprint it into his brain before heading to the entrance and taking out his phone. Pushing another button, he stepped outside. A series of explosions could be heard inside and he knew the fire would quickly be spreading through the building and eventually also the underground tunnels below. He had employed his own and Sam’s training to make sure the building was razed to the ground.</p>
<p>The bitter tang of bile tickled the back of his throat and he knew he needed to trust that his plan was working and that Nell and Eric would be safe. Kensi and Deeks were waiting for them in the tunnels below and would guide them out. No one would come to harm. They had planned for enough of a time delay in setting the tunnels ablaze that the danger to anyone was minimal.</p>
<p>Still, putting everyone in danger like this grated on him.</p>
<p>Callen turned and watched the flames engulf the building. The sight made his heart stutter, made another piece of himself break - possibly beyond repair.</p>
<p>All of this happened because he had allowed himself to be taken.</p>
<p>Eventually, Callen turned away from the dancing flames, forcing himself to move on, to leave the area before the firefighters could be alerted and came to the rescue… there would be no rescue to be done here though.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Both Kensi and Deeks appeared dazed when he met with them at the boatshed. They quickly put his worries to rest that something had gone wrong. Nell and Eric were fine, had been taken to Hetty and Sam, where they set up for the last steps of the mission.</p>
<p>Just as he himself though, Kensi and Deeks were reeling from the happenings. Their sanctuary had been destroyed.</p>
<p>They were floundering. The team was in shambles, without imminent guidance (Hetty), strength (Sam) and technical support (Nell and Eric). All of them were still present, were hiding in the background, but still it felt uncertain and precarious.</p>
<p>He had planned it this way together with his team, knew that the last trap was just a finalization of prior plans. Still, it didn’t get any easier to make the last steps, to take the boatshed down as well.</p>
<p>Callen watched his two remaining team mates, barely suppressing the by now well known and despised flinch the sight provoked. The reaction had been instilled (electrocuted) into him and his subconscious had a hard time coming to grips with it.</p>
<p>It was time to finish this.</p>
<p>He pushed away from the main table, briefly returning Kensi’s gaze when she glanced up before yet again shying away from the eye contact that made pain sing through his body. “I’ll just step outside,” he mumbled to the floor before heading to the entrance. It was the keywords and let all three of them know that things were happening <i>now</i>.</p>
<p>“Callen?”</p>
<p>Deeks voice rang out behind him and he turned his head slightly, unable to bring himself to glance at his remaining team mates and supposed targets, unable to opening himself up to more hurt, but still showing that he was listening.</p>
<p>“We’ll get through this… together.” The words were quiet, gentle and strong. It was that determination that made him continue with what he had planned. He clung to the hope that they would indeed finish this together, that he would be able to hang on afterwards when their goal had been met.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what would happen to him once he had reached his current objective. He knew that he wouldn’t face any ill effects from NCIS but he didn’t know how he personally would cope. He had never before been this close to breaking. He was treading a fine line and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he missed his step and tumbled down, wasn’t even sure if he hadn’t already done so and was just not aware of falling yet. After all, it wasn’t the fall that killed you, it was the sudden stop.</p>
<p>He shook his head free from those thoughts. He needed to carry on. For now, he could carry on. It was just one more step, then another one and another one that would get him through this.</p>
<p>Once outside, he stopped close to his car, parked far enough away so it wouldn’t be damaged by the blast.</p>
<p>He turned to watch the boatshed one last time, again committing the sight to memory, remembering the way this place had been a comfort and sanctuary for a long time. He counted down the seconds, the prearranged time needed for his team mates to get out through the tap door and get far enough away so they wouldn’t be hurt by the explosion or the debris. It wouldn’t be long… Sam and Shawn were waiting for them in the water with scooters and air tanks to get them away within seconds.</p>
<p>Eventually, he took out his phone and initiated the last sequence in this plan.</p>
<p>Despite expecting it, he flinched when the explosion rocked the harbor, the boatshed disintegrating in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>Wanting to sink to the floor, knowing he couldn’t, he reached deep inside of himself, finding that tiny remaining reservoir of strength and feeding on it.</p>
<p>It was nearly over. He just had to hold on a little while longer.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>When he stepped inside the warehouse, the Asian’s temporary headquarters, he felt empty. Exhaustion and emotional pain were tearing him apart from the inside out.</p>
<p>He had done what he had been asked to do, had done what he could and he hoped it was enough… to redeem himself and to eventually heal.</p>
<p>His team was safe and he would be safe in moments as well. He should be elated, victorious at having thwarted the Asian’s plans, but all he felt was emptiness.</p>
<p>Callen surrendered his service weapon and let himself be guided further into the room. He dreadfully glanced at <i>the chair</i>, hoping he wouldn’t be pushed into it, hoping he wouldn’t be forced to endure even the <i>threat</i> of it happening again. He knew he would hold on if the Asian commandeered it, knew his team was moments from breeching the place.</p>
<p>He wasn’t wired - he had been too scared of the Asian wanting one last round of electrocuting and therefore exposing him - but Nell and Eric had done something to his phone that would allow them to listen in on what was happening. As soon as they got what they needed, the team would breach the building. Callen just hoped he could get the Asian to say the words that would lead to the man’s downfall. He wasn’t sure how he could do it considering his submissive and unquestioning brokenness, and considering the hollow emptiness his mind was stuck in, but he knew he would hold on and manage somehow.</p>
<p>It was what he had been trained to do: endure and prevail.</p>
<p>He doubted there would be much more for him to endure. This journey would end here. And if the Asian didn’t say the words, he would somehow take the man down and personally send him to the gates of hell.</p>
<p>Callen swallowed the sound of fear when he was indeed guided over to the chair. He fell into it, boneless and done. He had been traumatized for weeks, had been tortured, had his insides rearranged, his mind played tricks on and his whole being reconfigured to someone else’s liking. He had a hard time not uttering the safewords the team had insisted on. Never before had he been so close to saying the distress words when he wasn’t mortally threatened. He bit his lip and held himself still.</p>
<p>He watched the Asian, exhausted and resigned. The man stood up and came around to his side of the table, leaning against it, eerily similar to the first time he had met the man in a prison cell in China.</p>
<p>“I have to admit, Agent Callen, I wasn’t sure if you could be broken down. It took way longer than it did with anyone else before. You see, I am a master of my trade, but you resisted admiringly,” the Asian told him and while the words washed over him, they held no meaning. He had been broken eventually, how long it had taken didn’t mean anything. “Of course, it was most pleasurable to have such a skilled and resilient opponent. In the end, you did a good job, following orders to take your team down like a good soldier.”</p>
<p>This was it… just what they needed and it was handed to him on a silver platter. Callen knew it would be seconds now, knew he could rest soon, rest and heal and take the time to come to grips with the last weeks.</p>
<p>The touch was expected, the stroke of fingers down his cheek, gentle, calming, caring, and it was such a contradiction to the man’s intentions, to his whole being, that Callen wanted to vomit. He lacked the strength to do even that though too, felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He couldn’t even recoil anymore, was beyond being able to react.</p>
<p>He only wished for this to end.</p>
<p>He sighed softly when behind him, the doors burst open. “Federal agents! Hands up. Step away from him.”</p>
<p>Sam’s voice was the first he heard and Callen gave himself a moment of relief before he slid off the chair, dropping boneless to the floor - both so that he wouldn’t be in the way of his colleagues and because he simply had <i>nothing</i> left to give.</p>
<p>The distance between the seat and the floor was small, but it might as well have been a light-year for the eon it took before his shoulder crashed down hard onto the concrete. He curled up and started shivering, unable to hold in everything he had held close to his chest for the eternity of the last weeks.</p>
<p>Short bursts of gunfire could be heard as the team took out the Asian’s guards and corralled the head of the snake himself. The Asian was too surprised to do anything even though Callen would have made a prime target at the man’s feet.</p>
<p>He listened to his team securing the area. He knew he should get up, either to help them or at least to get himself out of the way, but his body wasn’t obeying any further commands. He couldn’t still the tremors that ran through his whole being without his permission.</p>
<p>“Callen?”</p>
<p>Again, it was Shawn who approached. While he hadn’t disclosed much, hadn’t gone into detail, everyone had been able to see last night that Callen didn’t do well with the team’s presence right now. Shawn had been asked by Hetty to help out during the raid since they were keeping things very close to the vest and basically within the confines of the team. Shawn had instantly agreed.</p>
<p>Still, Callen wasn’t sure what he felt about the man’s presence right now, wasn’t sure what he felt about <i>anything</i> right now… other than pain, exhaustion and confusion.</p>
<p>“Nell, Eric, I need the paramedics in here.”</p>
<p>“No!” Callen argued without uncurling, instead drawing up further and continuing to tremble.</p>
<p>“Callen, you should have been checked over by paramedics last night already. I understood your reasoning then, but now is the time to get checked out… if only to collect more evidence.” It was an unfair move, an underhanded way to make Callen agree because Shawn was well aware that Callen’s sole focus had been to make sure they had enough proof against the Asian to put him into the deepest, darkest hole he would never be able to crawl out of.</p>
<p>He didn’t agree but he also didn’t argue any further.</p>
<p>Within moments, two paramedics approached.</p>
<p>“Be careful with him,” Shawn intercepted them, “he’s been abducted several weeks ago. He hasn’t specified, but we’re positive that he was tortured.” Shawn crouched back down beside him. “Callen, paramedics are here. I’ll stay with you. I’ve got your back.”</p>
<p>Callen gave a slow nod to indicate he understood and uncurled slightly. He raised his eyes to find Shawn watching him, ducking his head back down to evade eye contact. His team was around but giving them space, taking care of the scene. Usually, it would be Sam by his side, but he was glad that his partner kept his distance, knew he wouldn’t be able to cope otherwise right now.</p>
<p>“Alright sir, I’m Thomas and that’s Mac. We’re here to help you. Let’s get you checked out. Anything hurting?”</p>
<p>Everything? All over? Not physically, but his whole being. How did you communicate that? Callen slowly shook his head.</p>
<p>They took his stats, found the bruises on his chest, abdomen and his wrists - he guessed they would find those on his ankles later. Dehydration, malnourishment and a somewhat irregular heartbeat were the worst they found.</p>
<p>Starting with the irregular heartbeat they found, things went downhill quickly and unexpectedly. Callen had no time to comprehend what was happening, no time of warning before several pads and electrodes were slapped onto his skin to monitor his heart.</p>
<p>The feeling of the cables swishing against his chest, the way the electrodes pulled against his skin was just too much and he tumbled headlong into the memory. The flashback tore through him, powerful and completely uncontrollable and he felt his tentative hold on reality snap, making him go from passive to combative within moments.</p>
<p>Screaming and fighting, he was soon pinned down by several people, only adding to his desperation and Callen struggled with all he had left, fought against weeks of pain, of torment, of conditioning and malice. He raged against what he had endured and what he was determined wouldn’t be happening to him again, completely out of touch with reality und unable to comprehend that no one meant him any harm.</p>
<p>When a needle entered the muscle of his arm, he only fought harder, trying to get away, only wanting to be safe again. It took long moments with his body as worked up and doused with adrenaline as it was, but eventually, the sedative started working, a cloud of blackness sweeping over him, taking him along and forcing him to surrender.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>What can I say? Yeah, I’m just that meant to him.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Restoration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He tensed when he heard the soft crunch of footsteps behind him.</p>
<p>“Easy, fella, I mean you no harm.”</p>
<p>He knew the voice, couldn’t place it though and wasn’t interested enough to turn around so he could identify the speaker. Probably one of the locals out on a stroll.</p>
<p>“Mind if I sit?”</p>
<p>Callen shrugged, not sure if he cared. So far, the man hadn’t posed a threat. In all the months he had been up here, he found most of the people in Alaska were friendly and courteous even if rough around the edges. They kept to themselves, not begrudging him for doing the same, but what few contact there was, it was polite and simple.</p>
<p>He drew his coat more firmly around himself. It was still cold, even though the season was turning. The last of the snow was fading. There were still some white tufts left over this high above the harbor on the rugged hills overlooking the small town he had chosen as a hiding place, but those too were receding.</p>
<p>“Is this place doing what you hoped it would do, Callen?”</p>
<p>“No,” Callen murmured without thinking, jerking his head up when his brain caught up with the question and the address. He sprang to his feet and turned, stumbling backwards to watch the man beside him.</p>
<p>“Please, sit. I promise I’m not an enemy.”</p>
<p>He knew that, instantly able to identify the speaker despite the years since he had last seen him. Callen still hesitated for a brief second before slowly returning to his previous place, sinking back down.</p>
<p>Silence fell between them as the other man let him adjust to not being alone anymore. He watched from the corner of his eye, instinctively cataloguing details and comparing them to the last time he had seen the man. He may have gotten older, but he still radiated the same calm competence he had all those years ago. He had shaved off his hair and there was a goatee, precise and well defined, but otherwise his features were still the same. He remembered the man’s eyes, kind and honest, even though he also remembered that they could turn cautious and closed off between one blink and another.</p>
<p>Callen sighed softly and hung his head. “Hetty sent you?” he asked quietly, because he didn’t believe in coincidences, not in this isolated town high up in Alaska. This wasn’t a chance meeting.</p>
<p>“She may have suggested I seek you out.”</p>
<p>“She knows where I am?” Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach and he felt even more trapped than he had been before the man’s appearance. Callen glanced around furtively.</p>
<p>“Hetty always knows where her protégés are.”</p>
<p>Then why hadn’t she come to his aid during those ten weeks when he would have desperately needed her? Those ten weeks that had destroyed him. Those dark and miserable ten weeks in the hands of a sociopath in China. Why now and not then?</p>
<p>And what was he supposed to do with that information anyhow? “It’s… I mean… I don’t know…”</p>
<p>“Easy, Callen.” The words were soft, gentle and soothing. “There’s nothing for you to do or to decide at the moment. Nothing but deciding on how to get through the next moment, the next hour and the next day.”</p>
<p>He lowered his chin to his chest, his eyes once more falling to the ground in front of him. “I don’t know how,” Callen whispered, rubbing a hand over his face. He felt ashamed for admitting it, but he knew he wasn’t doing well. He didn’t sleep - well, he slept even less than he had ever before - and he could barely stomach any food. He felt consistently exhausted and as if he was set apart from the world, walking under a glass globe.</p>
<p>“That’s because you’re trying to do it by yourself. No one can go through what you’ve gone through and make it out on the other side by himself. Not even you, Callen.”</p>
<p>Callen glanced at the other man, the man he still only knew by the name of ‘Mirage’. “You know what happened, don’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.</p>
<p>“I know enough.”</p>
<p>There was a somewhat hesitant pause and Callen didn’t really want to ask, curious but also cautious.</p>
<p>Mirage sighed and turned his head towards him, the first time he was facing Callen. “They recovered evidence…” he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, “footage of those ten weeks.”</p>
<p>It felt as if the world stood still, all air sucked out of the immediate area, and the next moment, he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. A clash of emotions surged through him, tumbling together… dread, fear, pain, embarrassment, guilt and despair all rolled into one. Callen jumped up and stumbled a few steps away, hunching over and retching, losing what little food he had managed to ingest for breakfast.</p>
<p>He sunk to his knees, not caring that the wet ground seeped into his pants. He wanted to curl up and forget the last months, forget what had been done to him. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way. Never before had something impacted as hard as those ten weeks had. He looked straight ahead, his eyes glossy from tears that didn’t spill as his body slowly rocked backward and forward on its own account.</p>
<p>The landscape was breathtaking, rugged and harsh and yet gentle and soothing. It brought a measure of comfort, but it never seemed to touch him deep down, to really help him.</p>
<p>He had fled L.A. practically as soon as he had woken up in hospital, had ripped out the IV, taken the pulseoxymeter from his index finger, had dressed quietly and slipped out of the hospital. He had been somewhat surprised that no one had sat with him when he woke up, but had considered it a lucky break. He had not returned home, had instead gone through three of his secret stashes around the city to grab what he needed so that he could vanish. He had felt the urge to run so deep inside of his bones that he had been powerless to stop it.</p>
<p>Guilt, shame, fear and despair drove him away and he ran, blinded by the incessant need to get away and keep himself safe.</p>
<p>It had been days before he once more became consciously aware of his surroundings, his instincts having taken over and protected him while his brain had taken a leave of absence. He found himself in Oregon by that time, drawn up the coast and yet not far enough away from the darkness that followed him.</p>
<p>Eventually, he made it to Alaska with the sole purpose of getting lost in the huge state and trying to find himself again.</p>
<p>So far, it hadn’t worked. He was still as lost as he had been that day he had fled L.A., as lost as he had been when his personality had been shattered in that Chinese prison cell.</p>
<p>He mourned for what had been done to him, mourned for the man he had been, the man that was lost to him now.</p>
<p>While the man he had been before he had been taken by the Asian hadn’t been all good, had missed some fundamental truths and pieces about his past and identity, he had at least been comfortable with who he had become. Ever since China, he felt as if he were a contradiction of shattered pieces that wouldn’t fit properly anymore. He was trying so hard to hold himself together, but he could see pieces breaking off and clattering to the ground while he tried to keep the rest from following.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I can be the same person again,” he said softly, randomly, not turning around to the other man, still kneeling on the ground and facing away.</p>
<p>“You can’t.”</p>
<p>The statement was simple, no inflection or emotion. Just a simple, neutral statement and yet it made something inside of him shrivel up further, left a bitter taste of defeat.</p>
<p>“There are pieces of yourself that you left behind in that prison cell in Chinquong, pieces you will not get back, shards of your soul that will not fit into the holes they filled before. That doesn’t mean you can’t adapt and rebuild yourself. It’s hard, but you are one of the persons capable of it, strong enough to make it through a traumatic experience of this magnitude.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know how.”</p>
<p>“For starters, by not doing it alone,” the man repeated gently.</p>
<p>Callen listened to Mirage standing up behind him. He expected the man to come to him, braced himself for the contact, instead he heard him step away. Callen turned, watching the figure retreat. “That’s it?” he called after him, throwing his hands up, fury suddenly slicing through him. “You come up here, dump all that pseudo wisdom on me and then you leave?”</p>
<p>The man stopped and turned his head around to look at Callen and for the first time in ages, Callen made eye contact with another human being without flinching. Mirage wore an amused expression. “I think I’ve given you enough to think about for the moment,” he said simply before pausing for a moment. “Room 4 in that small hotel by the harbor. I’ll be here as long as I need to be.”</p>
<p>Callen watched him go, watched as the man slowly and carefully picked his way down the hillside. He was once more alone at his vantage point, but for some reason, he didn’t feel as alone as he had felt an hour ago.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>He found Mirage in the hotel restaurant hours later. Callen didn’t wait for an invitation, simply made his way over to the other man’s table and sank down opposite of him.</p>
<p>Mirage acknowledged him with a nod but continued chewing his food instead of starting a conversation.</p>
<p>The smell of food still mostly made him queasy and Callen leaned back slightly.</p>
<p>He had remained on top of the hill for a long while after Mirage had left. He had indeed considered the man’s words and while he wasn’t sure about many things, he was pretty sure that something would have to change or he would be stuck in limbo for much longer… and he hated to admit it, but he feared he would break completely unless something changed. He was trying to hold himself together by sheer force of will, but he didn’t know how long he would be able to do that.</p>
<p>He also knew it wasn’t working.</p>
<p>“Why didn’t Hetty reel me in if she knew where I was?” he asked quietly, somewhat curious.</p>
<p>Mirage smiled into his drink. “Would you have returned?”</p>
<p>Callen didn’t reply, but tilted his head to the side in silent contemplation.</p>
<p>“You’re the ultimate lone wolf, Callen,” the other man explained after a few silent moments, “you had to try on your own before you would even consider doing things differently.”</p>
<p>“You think this is wrong?” Callen reached for the paper napkin belonging to his place, idly following the fold with his fingertips, turning the cloth over and back again to keep his hands occupied.</p>
<p>“Not wrong, no,” Mirage shook his head, taking another sip of his beer before he put it down, “but ask yourself this… has it helped?”</p>
<p>Callen sighed and shook his head, “not really,” he admitted, hhis eyes still on the napkin.</p>
<p>“You’ve fallen into a deep hole that you can’t see the way out of. Rebuilding the life of someone whose dignity, whose sense of self, has been destroyed takes time,” Mirage said softly but bluntly. It was something that Callen had appreciated all those years ago: the way the man didn’t sugarcoat things but simply put them out there. “And to do that, long-term medical, psychological and social support is needed. You’ve deprived yourself of all of it.”</p>
<p>Glancing up, Callen drew a breath to argue, but the man held up a single finger and he fell silent once more.</p>
<p>“I’m not berating you. Would be quite hypocritical since I did the same back in the day,” he shrugged and turned his head to gaze outside into the darkness beyond the harbor lights. “I can understand the reasons your brain supplied, I know the shame and the guilt that’s most certainly keeping you in a firm grip.”</p>
<p>Callen sighed softly and started ripping small pieces off of the paper napkin, watching them beginning to pile up. “I gave in, I let him destroy me.”</p>
<p>Mirage turned back to face him. He tilted his head to the side and watched Callen calmly, “did you really?” he asked softly. “Think, Callen… you resisted in a way he didn’t notice until it was too late. Your team survived because of you.”</p>
<p>“They were in danger because of me!” he exclaimed forcefully, throwing the napkin - or what was left of it - down onto the table.</p>
<p>“No,” the man said evenly, not reacting to Callen’s outburst. He shook his head, “<i>all of you</i> were in danger because you’re good at your jobs and because you made enemies.”</p>
<p>“But if I hadn’t been taken…” there was a note of despair in his voice that he didn’t know how to keep at bay. His fingers trembled over the pile of shreds he had generated. It felt like a cruel analogy of his own personality that lay in a desolate heap at his feet.</p>
<p>It was Mirage’s turn to sigh, “yeah, the sickening guilt of having been snatched.” He sat back and put his knife and fork down with a soft click, “you are a professional, Callen. You know just as well as I do that if someone is determined - and those men <i>were</i> determined - everyone can be taken, no matter how highly trained or how well protected.”</p>
<p>He <i>did</i> know that, also knew that for all his training, fighting against five well trained opponents on his own had been odds he couldn’t have beaten. Still, he was a Federal Agent, had been a CIA operative before, he <i>should have</i> been able to keep this from happening <i>somehow</i>. He hung his head, picked the remains of the napkin back up and started smoothing out the edges, ripped off as they were.</p>
<p>Mirage leaned forward once more and reached for his beer. “I’ll tell you something else even though you know it already,” Mirage took a sip of his beer and carefully put the bottle back down, “that man was a professional. He put you through a very systematic and fine tuned process. He was <i>very</i> good at what he did. He knew exactly what he was doing and at which point to do it, he knew to look for the signs and he exploited them mercilessly.”</p>
<p>“He enjoyed it,” Callen murmured, his eyes still on the napkin and the small pile of pieces.</p>
<p>“Yes, he did,” Mirage agreed simply because there wasn’t anything else to do. Callen had experienced it and Mirage would have seen it in the recordings. “You’ve been trained, Callen, you’ve been trained in theory and in life, and you’ve been trained well. You knew what he was doing and you managed to <i>counteract</i> it, but that doesn’t mean that what he did to you didn’t <i>impact</i>. A lot of things have been taken from you in those ten weeks and it will be a battle to get them back, but it’s not impossible.”</p>
<p>“I couldn’t even look at them without flinching, expecting the pain, feeling it sizzle through me even without any current being applied,” he whispered, randomly jumping to another subject, even though it was related to what they were talking about on the whole.</p>
<p>“That’s not surprising after what he made you go through.”</p>
<p>“He trained me like a dog.” There was fury mixing in with the devastation and his voice sounded choked even to him.</p>
<p>“A dog that attacked him and brought him down.”</p>
<p>There was that, yeah, but it didn’t feel like enough. Callen leaned back in his chair, exhausted. He brushed a hand down his face, feeling weary and beyond his endurance.</p>
<p>Mirage reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a card. He put it on the table in front of Callen without a word and then picked up his knife and fork once more, returning to his meal.</p>
<p>Callen glanced at the business card in front of him. “Who’s that?” he asked. He saw the MD in front of the name and there was a flash of reluctance… it was smaller than he was used to though.</p>
<p>“A friend,” Mirage said after he swallowed his bite. He picked up his drink and took a mouthful.</p>
<p>“A shrink?”</p>
<p>There was a somewhat mischievous smile that went with the answer to the question. “She prefers counselor.”</p>
<p>Callen didn’t scoff like he would have before - like he had done after previous stints in captivity. Truth was: by now he knew he couldn’t come out of this on his own as he had expected. Previously, he’d licked his wounds in private, fortified his walls and then soldiered on. This time though… either it really was like Nate had once suggested, that mental trauma added up, or… yeah, who was he kidding? The kind of torture he had endured at the hands of the Asian was leagues apart from the amateurish fumbling he had encountered before. His fingertips brushed against the card. “What about my… the team’s confidential status?”</p>
<p>Mirage shrugged easily. “She’s got clearance.”</p>
<p>Callen let that sink in for a moment before he simply nodded in acceptance. He pocketed the card and stood. This time, it was he who decided enough was enough for one conversation. He stepped away from the table but stopped before he took two steps. Turning back, he glanced at the man, forcing himself to meet his eyes when Mirage looked up. “I still don’t even know your name…” It was half prompt, half question and he knew that the other man could easily blow him off.</p>
<p>Mirage returned his gaze evenly, his features open and relaxed. “It’s Derek.”</p>
<p>It was not much, but for some reason it felt good to know the man’s name.  It felt like a real connection to an important person instead of a barely tangible pseudonym. Callen nodded slowly in acceptance. He took a slow breath and straightened a little, “your teachings helped, Derek. They helped a lot,” he told the other man quietly.</p>
<p>Mirage returned his nod with one of his own. He gave Callen a smile. “Good night, Callen.” It was a farewell, at least for the evening, because while a lot had been said, and some ground had been gained, Callen still felt somewhat directionless and without anchor. He was sure that Derek could see it too and the man had said he would stay for as long as he needed to.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>He had met with Karen five days later in Texas. Derek had flown down with him and provided some sort of backup during the first minutes of meeting the counselor.</p>
<p>There had been an ease with which the woman had drawn him in and made him comfortable in her presence that had surprised him, that had been missing in any human interaction lately, but one he was grateful for.</p>
<p>Karen mostly worked for a cooperation that provided service for survivors of torture, people escaping from conflict regions and war torn countries, but she also worked for the government in cases like Callen’s which explained her security clearance.</p>
<p>The first few times they met, he barely opened up to her. He liked her, felt her presence soothing, but going into what had happened, telling his story, proved to be difficult. She was patient though and carefully guided him through the process of opening up.</p>
<p>She did have access to the tapes that had been recovered as evidence, so Callen knew she could have gotten the story that way, but she told him she wouldn’t watch them until he had told her what had happened himself and unless he gave his permission.</p>
<p>Somehow it was that promise that made it easier to start trusting her. He thought it was the way she put control back into his hands. He knew she would probably have to watch eventually so she could provide the best help possible to aid in his recovery and deprogramming, but the fact that she <i>didn’t</i> without his permission gave him confidence in her.</p>
<p>He refused medication even though she strongly recommended it. Despite going without, it only took a few weeks before he felt the first signs of improvement. Sleep came a little bit easier and with fewer nightmares than before, fewer flashbacks snuck up on him and his eating habits improved… well, in Callen-fashion at least.</p>
<p>Sam on the other hand would despair of him and the bacon and the burgers he ate.</p>
<p>Callen smiled slightly to himself as he acknowledged the thought of his best friend flittering through his mind without flinching.</p>
<p>It felt good to finally be able to think about his partner and the rest of his team, have their faces enter his mind without expecting and experiencing pain. He still wasn’t ready to meet them in person, but it finally felt like he might be able to take his life back after all.</p>
<p>“Care to share?”</p>
<p>Callen glanced up at the woman opposite of him. She had a quirky personality that was reflected in the way she dressed: brightly colored dresses, her hair made up in complicated patterns and the colors of her framed glasses changing every few days. She came across as a bit of a whirlwind sometimes even though she was actually rock solid. Despite - or maybe because of - all that she saw through the eyes of survivors she counseled, she had a way of embracing life with a joyful attitude he envied her.</p>
<p>She was watching him with a small smile and he returned it somewhat easily. “Just thinking of home,” he told her quietly.</p>
<p>Karen’s smile widened, “good thoughts it seemed.”</p>
<p>It was half a prompt and half a statement. He could leave it, but he went for the opening it provided, “yeah. I have been able to think of the team for a few days without… repercussions.” There was a soothing feeling of victory and happiness that blossomed further when he saw the elation in her features.</p>
<p>“That’s great, Callen. Big step!”</p>
<p>He shrugged slightly, “yeah, but I’m not sure about meeting them yet. I’ve glanced at the pictures I still have on my phone,” pictures from their time together, random snapshots while they socialized or had fun together. He had left his phone in L.A. when he fled, but Hetty had provided it through Karen during the sixth week of him meeting with the counselor. “Mixed results.”</p>
<p>She nodded calmly but still sobered slightly, “expected,” she said evenly. “Most difficult?”</p>
<p>“Sam and Hetty,” he answered promptly, “I didn’t expect any less because <i>he</i> focused on them most.” It had been a conscious move on the Asian’s part because of their roles in Callen’s life.</p>
<p>Karen tilted her head to the side. “You think that’s all?”</p>
<p>Callen frowned softly, “what do you mean?” he asked back, watching her closely, trying to read her.</p>
<p>“What about your guilt towards them?”</p>
<p>He swallowed and shifted slightly, barely keeping his arms from crossing over his chest in a defensive motion. “What guilt?” he asked, keeping his voice even.</p>
<p>There was amusement in the woman’s features and she raised her eyebrow in an expression of ‘really?’ that didn’t need to be verbalized.</p>
<p>Callen deflated. Karen had proven to be hard to keep away, for one because he needed to let her in for her to help him and for another thing because she was just so easy going, quirky and straight forward. “I feel I’ve betrayed them most with what I’ve done, not warning them the way I managed with the others,” he admitted.</p>
<p>Karen nodded when he gave her confirmation of what she most certainly would have suspected. She did know him rather well by now. “You chose to do it because you thought they could handle it and because you didn’t have the possibility of doing otherwise.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t exactly make it better,” he muttered, his gaze lost in the distance of the park they were sitting in. They often met up somewhere outside. He felt less confined in the open space. Sometimes when inside, the walls seemed to start closing in on him. The room didn’t even have to have any resemblance to the cell in China, but just the still air inside was enough to make him feel queasy at times.</p>
<p>“No,” Karen agreed calmly. There was a pause and she leaned back, her arms stretched out behind her on the blanket that was spread out beneath them. She watched him calmly. “You know, guilt is something we see in nearly all survivors of torture. The consequences of torture reach far beyond immediate pain as you are aware. Besides the physical symptoms, most victims feel guilt and shame. Many feel that they have betrayed themselves or their friends and family. All such symptoms are normal human responses to the abnormal and inhuman treatment they suffered.”</p>
<p>“Will it go away?” he asked quietly, his fingers smoothing over a blade of grass.</p>
<p>“With time, patience and lots of work,” Karen answered simply, “some people shake off the effects quickly, but it’s like a wound or the death of a loved one… scar tissue has to grow… Some manage it in days, some in weeks, some in years; and some bled forever. No two cases are the same, but yeah, I’m confident you will make it out on the other side. The fact that you’ve come this far in the few weeks we’ve worked together, the fact that you’re one headstrong person in the first place should give you that reassurance as well.”</p>
<p>Callen breathed deeply and let her words sink into him. He didn’t share her certainty yet, but he had to admit that he had made progress since coming to Texas.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Eleven months after fleeing his hometown, he returned to Los Angeles.</p>
<p>The city welcomed him with its typical weather, known smells and sights. Still, it felt somewhat different, less open, less like a refuge, less like home. Callen kept to himself and didn’t advertise his return. He needed to get settled on his own and he didn’t yet feel ready to face his team mates.</p>
<p>He had talked to both Hetty and Sam several times on the phone over the last few months, but facing the people he had been conditioned to kill and to expect pain upon seeing hadn’t yet been on the agenda. Usually he was a ‘rip off the plaster’ guy instead of slowly easing into things, but with this, he didn’t dare take a wrong step. He privately feared that things would never be ok again and he would be permanently cut off from the people he had come to call family.</p>
<p>He returned to his old habits, renting short term rooms in one or another place - mostly in Venice, the place he had always felt most comfortable at. He took care of staying clear of any surveillance and CCTV cameras as he had a feeling that the techs might still have him flagged - with or without Hetty’s express permission.</p>
<p>For the moment, he wanted to remain anonymous and alone, wanted to try and find his footing in the city he called home.</p>
<p>He talked to Karen several times a week, using the rapport they had built up in Texas as a security blanket and lifeline.</p>
<p>Two weeks after returning to L.A., he felt the itch to take the next step and Karen egged him on. Still, a face to face confrontation wasn’t something he felt comfortable with yet when he didn’t know how well the deprogramming had worked. He had worked with Karen and another psychologist specializing in these kinds of things. It had been frustratingly long weeks with progress and setbacks, broken coffee mugs, raised voices and crows of victory alike.</p>
<p>His first step in putting himself out there was therefore by tailing his team mates. He started with Eric as the tech was the one least likely to notice, therefore giving Callen the most time to explore his own reactions upon seeing one of his team members in the flesh.</p>
<p>There had been a fierce bolt of unease and pain upon first seeing the tech, making Callen instantly frustrated and ready to call his experiment off, prepared to retreat and leave US soil if necessary. Karen had read him the riot act when he admitted to letting Eric leave without even following him to see if it got easier. She had also challenged him into doing better.</p>
<p>So Callen found himself at Eric’s place again two days later and this time, was prepared for the unease, noting with curiosity that it was down to a moment of hesitation and a wince now that he saw Eric for the second time. He followed Eric, noting with approval how the tech took care to double back once and use a roundabout route to get to his destination - which was obviously the new headquarters of the Office of Special Projects.</p>
<p>It was located in a wide area, consisting of several buildings that seemed to be connected by walkways. While he still mourned the loss of their old condemned Spanish Mansion, the new place seemed to work for their needs. He remained far enough away so as not to have any warnings go off at OSP.</p>
<p>He tailed Eric for two more days before switching to the rest of his team mates, following them one after the other and making himself face each of them without any direct interactions.</p>
<p>Some were harder to face than others, more left over tension in seeing them, but generally, he didn’t feel the paralyzing bolt of electricity racing up and down his body that had been there before he fled L.A.</p>
<p>Following Sam turned out to be most fun as his partner seemed to be suspicious several times. Callen managed to stay back far enough to not get made but he guessed he would have to confide in Sam soon if he kept on tailing him or there would be red lights flashing in alarm with Sam pulling out all the stops to make sure there was no threat against him. The fact that he only saw Sam hesitate once or twice and not get fully defensive let him know that his partner wasn’t totally worried yet. Still, Callen backed off and decided to leave Sam alone until he was confident he could take the next step.</p>
<p>Tailing Hetty as the last person he needed to see from afar before venturing forward went somewhat differently than planned… though not all that surprising considering it was Hetty. Just like Callen himself, Hetty had a finely tuned radar for picking up tails.</p>
<p>He stayed back far enough to not get instantly made for a time before he decided to venture closer to see how well he was holding it together. Of course that was when Hetty’s demeanor changed. Her leisure stroll through the market changed ever so slightly and a small amount of tension entered her posture. She doubled back twice, giving Callen a run for his money. He idly smiled when all he felt at the threat of being made by her was amusement instead of dread at potentially having to face her. Taking it as a good sign for his mental state, he didn’t back off and leave, instead entered the game with Hetty, doing his best to evade her.</p>
<p>Only when he saw her Derringer appear from her sleeve, did he decide to stop before he got himself killed - not that Hetty would make such a mistake. He eased off and when Hetty turned in something close to confusion at the lessening presence, he didn’t make a move to conceal himself.</p>
<p>They stood some 50 yards away from each other and Callen took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet hers. There was a small jolt, but nothing more than that and relief doused him, making him weak at the knees.</p>
<p>Maybe he could really do this, could regain what had been taken from him.</p>
<p>Surprise flittered over Hetty’s features before elation and amusement followed. When Hetty made to step towards him, he stepped back. She stopped instantly and nodded, remaining where she was, understanding he still needed space to do this on his terms. He returned the nod with a small smile before taking another step back and then turning away.</p>
<p>He hadn’t even taken ten steps before his phone chimed with an incoming text. He smiled upon reading it. ‘<i>Tea, Mr. Callen?</i>’</p>
<p>Callen stopped to type in a reply, glancing over his shoulder when he sent it. ‘<i>Not today. Not yet</i>.’</p>
<p>He watched as Hetty read his answer and then returned her gaze to him. There was another solemn nod before she typed another reply and then determinedly turned away and left, giving him the space he had asked for.</p>
<p>‘<i>Some other time then</i>.’</p>
<p>Callen breathed a sigh of relief and felt something unclench. He had already known he had her backup. While they had evaded difficult topics in the phone conversations they had shared during his time in Texas, she had been very clear in the fact that she held no ill will towards him and on the contrary offered whatever support he needed - she had sent Derek and probably had a hand in picking Karen after all. Facing her now but having her back off when he signaled that he still needed time only underlined that support and he relaxed.</p>
<p>Callen melted back into the easy coming and going of the market, losing himself in his contemplations and going through his ‘meeting’ with Hetty and his reactions to it once more.</p>
<p>Even though Karen suggested meeting with one of the others first to ease into things, he still wanted to go for the most difficult ones first: Hetty and Sam. He knew once he had faced those two, once he knew he could keep it together when he met with them, then the rest would be comparatively easy. Plus, he owed it to those two to approach them first. After so many months of hiding and healing, after working up to it by tailing his friends to check his own reactions, he felt it was time to face this head on.</p>
<p>Therefore, it was a few days after he had briefly faced Hetty in the market that he sent her a text.</p>
<p>‘<i>Tea, Hetty?</i>’ was all it said; all that needed to be said.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>He met with Hetty several times. He knew she had been surprised by his request to meet at the beach house where he had met up with the team after the first two mock-assassinations, when had been deeply hurt by what had been done to him and nearly out of his mind with the repercussions of his torture and brainwashing.</p>
<p>Callen had debated with himself and had also discussed it with Karen, unsure if he should face two difficult things at once, but he wanted to meet with Hetty somewhere in private and while she had other properties that would fit their need, something drew him back to the beach property. It was an instinct and he usually listened to his gut feelings.</p>
<p>Especially the first meeting had been somewhat difficult and he had often found himself evading eye contact, looking up several times to find familiar jolts of pain and adrenaline rushing through him. Karen had warned him about that and while he had hoped he would be ok, he had prepared himself to expect it. The depth of his brainwashing and torture took time to reverse, not only in theory, but also in real life.</p>
<p>Hetty had been patient and had carried a conversation he didn’t always follow, but was glad for anyway as it left him time to come to grips with what was happening. Shawn had been around as well and Callen had once more noticed his presence as something soothing. Even though the former SAS soldier mostly left them alone, his presence had a calming effect on Callen. By the time he left Hetty’s place late in the evening, he felt more settled with himself and the situation.</p>
<p>The next meetings went better and better and by the end of the fourth, he could meet her eyes without flinching… which was more than could be said for a lot of agents coming under Hetty’s purview.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>While he periodically checked up on the rest of his team mates, he hadn’t made a push to see anyone else before he was on more stable feet with Hetty.</p>
<p>He for once decided to heed Karen’s warnings of not overdoing things by tackling several problems at once.</p>
<p>Still, with his meetings with Hetty getting easier, he felt himself becoming more restless and eventually, he was drawn to the man who had always had his back, the man who was in many regards his brother.</p>
<p>Callen knew he could finagle a meeting wherever he wanted, could tail Sam or stake out his favorite coffee shops to eventually bump into him. In the end, he decided on a very simple way: he waited for Sam on his boat one morning after his partner had gone for a run.</p>
<p>Callen watched him leave, somewhat surprised by the way he itched to join Sam for his morning run, to spend time with the other man. Taking it as a good sign, he approached the boat, smirking at the huge sea lion watching him suspiciously. Climbing on board, he settled himself into one of the deck chairs, giving himself more time to prepare himself and smiling when he received a message with well wishes from Karen who knew about his plan to meet with Sam.</p>
<p>Callen tensed slightly when he felt the shift in the air, the way eyes were suddenly locked onto him. It wasn’t a threat - instead he felt the presence of his partner drawing near. Callen closed his eyes and allowed himself to bask in the old feeling of soothing comfort and belonging. He hoped facing Sam would help him regain another support beam and anchor he had been missing dearly for months.</p>
<p>Mirage had been correct. By running, he had deprived himself of a lot of support, even though at the time it had felt less like support and more like anguish.</p>
<p>The easy rhythm of footfalls approached and Callen held himself still, opening his eyes but not yet looking up.</p>
<p>Without saying anything, Sam sank into a second chair that was angled towards the one Callen sat in.</p>
<p>He could easily pinpoint his partner’s location even though Sam didn’t speak, obviously giving him the lead.</p>
<p>Inwardly, he braced himself for the jolt of pain. Taking a slow and deep breath, Callen slowly raised his head and met his partner’s gaze. “Hello, Sam,” he said quietly, a small smile on his lips when the jolt of pain was dull, overshadowed by the expression on his partner’s face - happiness, relief and pride.</p>
<p>“Hey G,” Sam gave back in an equally gentle tone of voice.</p>
<p>The voice sank into him and Callen felt himself relax a bit further. He could do this, could regain what the Asian had tried to permanently take from him.</p>
<p>“I thought I felt your presence a little while ago,” Sam said and leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. He reached for the towel that hung close, wiping his face.</p>
<p>Callen shrugged a little. “Been tailing everyone every now and then.”</p>
<p>“How long have you been in L.A.?”</p>
<p>“Two months. Give or take a few days,” he said slowly. “I needed some time to settle,” he added after a brief pause, hoping Sam wouldn’t be angry for staying away that long.</p>
<p>“You don’t settle, G, you don’t stay at a place long enough <i>to</i> settle,” his partner needled gently and Callen felt a laugh escape, elated that Sam was willing to banter, to give him something that had always defined their friendship.</p>
<p>There was a private and pleased smile on Sam’s features when their gazes connected the next time.</p>
<p>Callen shifted and slouched a little deeper into the chair, relaxing and allowing the tension to slowly seep from his bones, beginning to trust that he would be ok.</p>
<p>There was a moment of silence before Sam leaned forward a little, his eyes firmly on Callen. “How are you, G?”</p>
<p>“I’m…” he contemplated the question for a brief moment, “better,” he settled on, before adding, “I’m getting there.”</p>
<p>Sam’s eyes remained on him for a moment longer, cataloguing and checking for himself. “Good,” the other man said with a smile, obviously deciding to take Callen’s word for it, before he stood up. “I’ll take a shower. Coffee’s inside if you want it.”</p>
<p>Before Callen could decide on what to do, Sam was already gone. He contemplated if he should stay or if he should make a getaway and eventually decided to remain where he was, relaxing back into the chair and allowing his eyes to close in something that felt pretty close to ‘contentment’.</p>
<p>If he was asleep by the time Sam returned outside, no one commented on that.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>There was a lull in conversation and Callen watched Hetty somewhat wearily, feeling the pressure of his own thoughts.</p>
<p>They’d been having dinner together twice a week since he had first met with her and the stability of the scheduled meetings gave him some sort of anchor.</p>
<p>Re-including Sam into his social contacts had also done a lot to help him find his feet again. They went for a run three times a week in the morning. He still hadn’t met with anyone else from the team, though it was less out of avoidance of them and more that he wanted to give himself a little more time to know where things would go.</p>
<p>Which was also why he was apprehensive about today…</p>
<p>Callen glanced up again and found Hetty watching him, her gaze steady and sure.</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I can return to my position,” he blurted out, wincing when his mouth clicked shut. He put his cutlery down and rubbed a hand over his eyes.</p>
<p>Hetty continued watching him, her head tilted slightly to the side, obviously unfazed by what he had just said. “Do you want to?” she asked simply.</p>
<p>Callen hesitated before forging on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his gaze downcast, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had searched himself for weeks, unsure if he wanted to return to OSP, return to the life he’d led before. On the one hand, he didn’t know how to be <i>anything else</i>. He had been an undercover agent for one or another agency almost all of his life, but on the other hand, he had bled for his country multiple times and had his mind, his personality nearly fractured by what he had been forced to endure that last time. Captivity was always a possibility in their line of work and he wasn’t sure if he could stand it again, wasn’t even sure if he could stand the mere <i>thought</i> of it.</p>
<p>There was a long moment of silence and Hetty’s gaze remained steady. “I see,” she hedged before reaching for the sauce. “Why don’t you come to OSP first and we’ll see how that goes?” she suggested.</p>
<p>Callen arched an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you keep the new location confidential?”</p>
<p>Hetty grinned and put the saucepan back down, reaching for her cutlery once more. “I’m pretty sure you already know where it is, don’t you?” she asked, pointing her fork at him. The mirth in her expression let him know she didn’t mind. “And anyway… you said you didn’t know whether you could return to your <i>position</i>, not that you couldn’t return to <i>NCIS</i>.”</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to argue but Hetty gave him a stern glance.</p>
<p>“You are far too valuable an asset to let go, Mr. Callen,” Hetty told him firmly but gently. Her voice softened even further when she went on, “and you are one of mine so unless you decide you’re really done with our world, I will do my best to find a suitable placement for you within NCIS. If the status of a Field Agent is not for you anymore, then I’m sure we can find something else to suit you.” He also heard what she didn’t say, that he was far too valuable to <i>her</i> to let him slip away.</p>
<p>Callen shakily reached for his glass. He had of course known that Hetty had his back, but this was more than he had hoped for. He had been an undercover operative for ages, something he knew he excelled at, but he didn’t know what else he had to offer to the agency. Having Hetty’s backup and support was a huge relief. He trusted her to guide him and find something he could be comfortable with if he decided to drop out of the field. He glanced at Hetty and met her gaze head-on. “Thank you,” Callen told her quietly, giving her a relieved smile.</p>
<p>“You’re most welcome, Mr. Callen. Most welcome indeed.”</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen sat in his car, watching the building from outside, shoring himself up to actually leave the vehicle and set foot into the new OSP.</p>
<p>His dinner with Hetty had just been yesterday and somehow he had found himself roped into her machinations and agreeing to come by today. He wasn’t quite sure how that had happened, only knew the satisfied gleam in Hetty’s eyes should worry him more than it did. He was pretty sure that she had already made contingency plans on top of contingency plans that he wasn’t yet privy to. He didn’t know if he should mind.</p>
<p>For the moment, he was more worried about the imminent happenings.</p>
<p>He had already talked to Karen that morning and she had encouraged him and prodded him in equal measures. He got the feeling that Hetty had already filled her in on the plans and he was being railroaded by the two women. He was equally certain that it wasn’t a bad thing since he could be sure these women meant him no harm.</p>
<p>Callen glanced at his phone when it signaled an incoming text.</p>
<p>He huffed out an amused breath when he read Hetty’s words: ‘<i>Aren’t you coming in?</i>’</p>
<p>Trust her to be watching and trust her to know he needed a small push. Callen took a deep breath and then resolutely opened the door to get out of the car. Slowly heading over to the building, he glanced around the area, smiling when he caught a glimpse of the ocean behind the fence line. He had spent many an hour on the beach after coming to grips with his aversion to it after the incident with Sam’s mock-assassination. It had taken a while and some guidance from Karen, but by now, the ocean had regained its value for his peace of mind.</p>
<p>He pushed the door open and took in the sight. Similar to the Spanish Mission, this place looked bland and mostly deserted from the outside. And also similar to the previous OSP, the place was bustling with energy and people once he stepped inside.</p>
<p>Callen stopped again just inside the hallway, glancing around and taking in the sights and the energy of the place. He smiled when one of the women from wardrobe pushed past with a clothes rack, minding her own business. Several people with file folders moved from one place to the other, some people were clustered in small groups, conversing and discussing.</p>
<p>There was something familiar in all of this and Callen was startled by the pang of longing, the realization that he had <i>missed</i> this. He glanced straight ahead and found Hetty watching him from her office. Just as before, she had an open space, no door, nothing to set her apart and keep her from knowing everything that was going on around her.</p>
<p>He gave her a somewhat shaky smile.</p>
<p>Her returning smile was wide and open, not hiding her feelings upon his appearance.</p>
<p>There was a sharp whistle from above and Callen glanced up, smiling when Eric skidded into view on the walkway above - similarly to the previous OSP, giving the techs the high ground. “Heads up,” Eric hollered, obviously fired up about something. “It’s Callen. He is…” the tech broke off when he glanced towards the entrance where Callen stood and their eyes met.</p>
<p>There was no jolt of pain and Callen smiled before glancing over to where he could hear chairs scraping and exclamations being made. His team popped into view behind a divider that was more closed off than the open iron fence in the Spanish Mission had been, but was still tastefully done.</p>
<p>“-here,” he finished Eric’s sentence, “I’m here.” Callen smiled to himself upon the words, and the feeling of contentment they evoked. “Miss me?” he asked, only feigning confidence a slight bit until he saw their reactions. Kensi, Deeks and Nell tried pushing each other out of the way and it was surprisingly Nell - using her smaller size to her advantage - who won the battle and got to him first.</p>
<p>He was somewhat caught off guard when the woman crashed into him, her arms winding around him. “Jesus,” he huffed out, instinctively returning Nell’s firm embrace. He hadn’t done terribly well with physical contact ever since the Asian, but aside of a slight tensing, there was no distressing reaction. The surprising move gave him very little time to guard himself, but he found he didn’t actually need to, found that this felt surprisingly right.</p>
<p>When Nell stepped away, Kensi was next, going for the same tight embrace Nell had given him and Callen drew her close while he slowly relaxed.</p>
<p>Deeks’ hand came down on his shoulder and Callen glanced up and gave him a smile before he withdrew from Kensi.</p>
<p>“Man, it’s good to see you,” Deeks said, his voice honest and gentle before he offered his hand and drew Callen into the male version of a hug.</p>
<p>Eric had by now also flip-flopped downstairs and went for the same hug that Deeks had. Sam leaned against the table nearby. They had seen each other just this morning, had gone for a run together but Callen hadn’t told him anything about being roped in by Hetty. In the privacy of his own mind, he might have been worried about chickening out. Then again, defying Hetty was something he wasn’t prone to doing.</p>
<p>Callen glanced at his partner and answered the raised eyebrow with a somewhat sheepish smile and a shrug.</p>
<p>The rest of the team observed the interaction and Kensi crossed her arms in front of her chest before she turned accusing eyes on Sam. “You knew he was back.”</p>
<p>Sam glanced at her and shook his head. “I knew he was back in L.A.,” he specified.</p>
<p>Deeks poked his partner in the side. “I told you he has been more relaxed for the last few weeks,” he muttered, sotto-voice.</p>
<p>Kensi’s eyes narrowed as she focused on Sam first and then turned her stare onto Callen. He prided himself on not recoiling, but there <i>was</i> a jolt of pain this time. He distractedly rubbed a hand against his chest, ignoring the sudden silence that fell around him.</p>
<p>“Look, I’ve been back in L.A. for a while. I needed some more time to…” he let the sentence hang, unsure on how to continue. Glancing up, he let his eyes move slowly around the circle of his friends, not quite making eye contact this time.</p>
<p>A soft sound alert coming from the tablet Nell had put on a nearby desk startled everyone out of the stillness. Nell reached for the device and her expression sharpened. “Alright. Kaleidoscope just got a hit on Farrell. Address on your phones,” she said, her voice back to business and everyone reacted to that, turning to gather their things and springing into motion.</p>
<p>Nell and Eric made to return upstairs before Nell stopped and glanced back at him. “You gonna be here later?” she asked, her voice hopeful and at the same time guarded against disappointment.</p>
<p>Behind him, he heard the trio of field agents stop as well, just as interested in his reply as the techs were.</p>
<p>Callen shifted slightly and gave a small shrug. He tilted his head to Hetty. “Not sure about today, but I guess I’ll be here more often from now on.”</p>
<p>Nell gave him a pleased smile and he felt the tension in the others behind him slowly fall away. Interestingly, the strain in his own shoulders eased as well.</p>
<p>Hetty chose that moment to clear her throat. “You’ve got places to be, people,” she ordered calmly and everyone scrambled.</p>
<p>Callen gave her a fond look which she returned before beckoning him over with a tilt of her head.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Returning to work at OSP had given him another anchor he had been lacking for months.</p>
<p>Callen had to admit that he felt better for it. Not only working and keeping his mind occupied but also returning to the circle of friends and family he had made here. There were moments when memories were pressing in on him and he’d narrowly missed tumbling into a flashback or two, but mostly being around the others helped stabilize his world further.</p>
<p>It had taken a while, but eventually, the last effects of the conditioning wore off, overlaid with the reality of nothing happening upon seeing his team mates. The residue of expecting pain had still been there despite the deprogramming, as he had felt when he had tailed his team mates and met with Hetty and Sam, though the effects had not been as strong as before the process. Still, he had eventually determined that he simply had to go on and experience again and again that no pain was coming. With each experience, it got easier to trust and put himself out there, facing his team mates until there was no more muscle memory of sizzling pain.</p>
<p>Since returning to OSP, he hadn’t made a push towards active field work again. He had re-qualified for the necessary weapons and also passed the fitness tests, but he hadn’t gone into the field.</p>
<p>Sometimes, his feet itched when the team had to scramble and rush out, or even when he was up in Ops and checking on their status or guiding them during a raid, but the urge to be out there with them wasn’t strong enough to give in and head out. There was an anxiety remaining in him that held him back and both he and Hetty acknowledged it. He didn’t want to endanger his team and if he couldn’t function, he would inescapably do that.</p>
<p>He had once told Deeks - after being tortured by Sidorov - that he didn’t want him on the team unless he was ready to be back, that he couldn’t have Deeks second-guessing himself while trying to figure out if the job still made sense for him, that it wasn’t safe for Deeks… and not safe for the team.</p>
<p>It was only fair he heeded his own advice. And he knew he wasn’t ready to be back yet because he was still second-guessing himself.</p>
<p>He was certain that he wanted to be <i>here</i>, within the family he had built for himself, but beyond that? He just didn’t know.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Callen moved upstairs, planning on watching the undercover assignment from Ops. Kensi and Deeks were doing an easy recon on a person of interest in a club. Kensi was going in as bait while Deeks was providing backup.</p>
<p>No one else was needed on the ground since they were just in the first steps of putting the mission together, just the first tentative appearances to get their sailor’s interest.</p>
<p>Still, Callen often watched from Ops these days, guiding his team, providing insight into body language and other things that weren’t exactly Nell or Eric’s jobs to do. It helped him in staying close to the team, providing backup the only way he knew to do right now and also allowing him to stay in the game and draw closer to potentially returning to the field. His senses were tingling and he felt the itch to leave administrative work behind, to test himself out there once more. After two months of being back at OSP, he was finally getting itchy feet.</p>
<p>Striding through the automatic doors into Ops, still contemplating his returning interest in field work, he was completely unprepared for the blaring noise and drumming basses that were transmitted through Kensi and Deeks’ microphones to the speakers in Ops. Catching himself, he glanced at the main monitor to get a handle on how the operation was going.</p>
<p>Deeks’ button cam was up on the main screen and strobe lights were flashing, pulsing in time with the music/blaring noise inside the club.</p>
<p>The sight of Ops dissolved around him and merged into the prison cell in Chinquong, strobe lights and white noise.</p>
<p>Bile burned at the back of his throat and Callen recoiled as he stumbled backwards. Turning, he left Ops and fled through the building, trying to leave the flashback behind.</p>
<p>The visual memories merged with the physical pain of what followed after, leaving him breathless with agony.</p>
<p>Callen regained awareness seconds, minutes or hours later. He wasn’t able to tell how much time had passed, only knew he was huddled against his partner’s side when the flashback petered off and spat him back out. He was shaking with strain and fatigue, but the urge to recoil and scramble away from Sam was absent. He should be embarrassed by the display of weakness, but couldn’t find it in himself to actually dredge up the energy to do so.</p>
<p>He forced his fingers to uncurl from where they were tangled in Sam’s shirt.</p>
<p>“G?” Sam asked quietly, instantly aware of Callen’s return to his senses.</p>
<p>He wanted to draw himself back together, but lacked the strength to do so, his muscles burning with fatigue after the powerful flashback and his reaction to it. For some reason though, he didn’t mind his weakness. Sam’s presence was strong and soothing and Callen let himself draw strength from it, feeling something inside of himself heal.</p>
<p>He knew that the way he had reacted to Sam’s presence all those months ago, the night after the mock assassination, when Callen had been out of his mind and unable to cope with his partner’s presence, had damaged something between them. It wasn’t overly obvious, more a subtle hesitation in the way they behaved in certain situations. He knew that Sam - as both, the caretaker of the team and his best friend - had been thrown by his reaction and while he would have later come to rationally understand it, it had still hurt them both that Callen hadn’t been able to allow his best friend close.</p>
<p>The fact that he could do so now without fearing the repercussions of the Asian’s conditioning anymore helped somehow, made something settle between them, at least for Callen.</p>
<p>Callen drew in a measured breath, shifting slightly without drawing away completely. “Yeah, I’m here,” he eventually answered Sam’s prompt, his voice still warbling slightly, “give me a moment.”</p>
<p>Sam’s arm tightened slightly around him, “take the time you need.”</p>
<p>Neither of them had ever been prone to being overly physical around the other, but there was no embarrassment in this situation, just the protective and soothing comfort of strength that was voluntarily offered.</p>
<p>Eventually, Callen sighed and slowly sat up, rubbing his hands down his face.</p>
<p>“Flashback?” Sam asked quietly, even though Callen was sure his partner had already worked that one out for himself and wasn’t even really asking for confirmation, just putting it out there.</p>
<p>Callen hummed an affirmative. He had been totally unprepared for the flashback, taken off guard. He felt the world slowing down around him once more, stabilizing itself into reality. At the same time, he felt lethargy set in. He needed to go somewhere so he could rest.</p>
<p>Callen shifted and made to stand. He would have tumbled back to the ground if it hadn’t been for Sam who caught and supported him. He allowed his friend to stabilize him when he was swaying on his feet.</p>
<p>The flashback had sapped his strength. The adrenaline was ebbing away, leaving his muscles wobbly and shaking. His heart was still beating somewhat out of tune, but he was at least clearheaded - even if completely exhausted.</p>
<p>“Couch,” Callen murmured, “I need to rest.” Admitting weakness had never been his strong suit, but he didn’t feel like drawing the remnants of his walls up right now.</p>
<p>“You need to go home, Mr. Callen,” Hetty spoke up from the doorway, watching their slow progress out of the gym.</p>
<p>Callen shook his head, “no home,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He still hadn’t found a place to settle and he knew he needed the by now familiar surroundings of their new OSP to calm down, wouldn’t be able to relax in the room he was currently staying at in Venice.</p>
<p>Hetty watched him closely and he returned her gaze, glad the flashback hadn’t transported him back to a time where he couldn’t stand the sight of his team mates or his superior. It had been a powerful flashback, but it didn’t topple all the healing he had done so far.</p>
<p>Eventually, Hetty nodded and stepped aside. “Bring him to the couch, Mr. Hanna. I’ll make some tea.”</p>
<p>Callen hung on as he stumbled alongside of his partner, being guided and half-dragged over to where he had asked to be brought.</p>
<p>He had never been one to allow himself to be this vulnerable around his team mates. Not even Sam had seen him at his lowest after the near fatal shooting in Venice years ago, but somehow after trying to battle the Asian alone, after understanding he couldn’t <i>do</i> it on his own, he felt himself sliding closer to the others, less inclined to keep them at bay.</p>
<p>He sunk down onto the couch with a weary sigh, rubbing his hands down his face once more.</p>
<p>The quiet, internal musings he had entertained before entering Ops, the strengthening interest of returning to the field, receded from his mind once more. As long as he couldn’t function, he would be a danger to everyone.</p>
<p>Without giving his partner another glance, he lay down and shifted onto his side, curling up to take the strain of his aching muscles. He needed to rest, to sleep off the effects of the flashback.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>It was still dark outside when he woke. The room was lit dimly though, allowing for an easy way to orient and ground himself. Callen glanced around, a small smile coming to his lips when he saw his partner asleep in an easy chair close by.</p>
<p>Sam’s obvious need to be around to offer care and comfort touched him. While they hadn’t worked together in the field in over a year, the bond of brotherhood was still there and Callen knew he could fall back on it - now more than ever after experiencing the flashback and having Sam close when he returned to his senses.</p>
<p>Callen shifted and sat up stiffly, drawing the blanket around himself while he drew his feet up onto the couch. The images of the flashback were gone, but the feeling of helplessness and being trapped was still somewhat there. He knew he needed to talk to Karen, get her input and sort himself out.</p>
<p>Glancing at the clock and doing a quick calculation of time zones made him shake his head. He would have to wait a few more hours before he could call her.</p>
<p>Callen sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, feeling physically and mentally exhausted. He hadn’t experienced a flashback in several weeks, especially not one as powerful as this. He had felt upbeat lately, settled somewhat firmly back into his life. He had begun to miss going out into the field and had been somewhat confident he could reclaim that part of his profession as well. Now, he wasn’t so sure any more.</p>
<p>Callen jumped slightly when his cell phone vibrated on the coffee table in front of him. He reached for it before Sam could startle awake and glanced at the incoming text.</p>
<p><i> Karen is waiting for your call</i>.</p>
<p>Callen reread the words and then glanced up, searching for the nearest surveillance camera. He gave a grateful nod, certain that Hetty was watching, the timing of her text too perfect to be coincidental. Glancing at his partner once more, Callen quietly stood and left the room for some solitude, finding his way up to the rooftop that had become somewhat of a sanctuary for him when he needed a quiet moment to himself.</p>
<p>Sliding down to the ground, his back wedged into the corner of the balustrade, he dialed Karen’s number.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>Despite his initial internal musings the night after the flashback, he had tried to withdraw from the team in the aftermath of it, had tried to isolate himself again but had been met with both unvoiced and voiced disapproval.</p>
<p>The team had been quick to rally around him and draw him back in and despite his misgivings, he had surrendered to them.</p>
<p>The flashback itself wasn’t so much the problem as the uncertainty of being able to return to field duty was. Because he now knew that he <i>wanted</i> to return to the field, he felt himself mourning for the possibility of being unable to do so in the end.</p>
<p>In a way the feeling was a relief because for a long while he hadn’t been sure if he really wanted to return to the field, but on the other hand he felt backed into a corner he couldn’t come out of for fear of making the wrong decision and endangering his team if he couldn’t handle himself.</p>
<p>Callen had never been prone to being indecisive or afraid of making decisions, but the last year had changed him in fundamental ways.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>In the end, it was less a conscious decision or a process of careful steps to reintegrate himself into fieldwork in mostly controlled conditions but rather the desperate need to save his team that drew him out of Ops.</p>
<p>Callen glanced up from where he was discussing strategies with the head of another team when Nell called his name. There was a note of tension in her voice that had him out of his chair and up the stairs without consciously deciding on it.</p>
<p>He skidded into Ops moments later, instantly noting the thrumming tension in the room.</p>
<p>“Status report,” he ordered curtly, not wanting a long discussion but just the headlights of what was happening and why Nell had called him up.</p>
<p>“We’ve lost contact with the team,” Eric replied shortly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Callen glanced over the tech’s shoulder long enough to understand that Eric was trying to reconfigure the system. He had been in Ops often enough lately to recognize what those two were doing most of the time.</p>
<p>“How long?” he asked, glancing at his watch. The op wasn’t supposed to go down for another twenty minutes at least. The team had gone into position early. Kensi was on overwatch while Deeks and Sam were on the ground - a shady lawyer with his client/muscle.</p>
<p>“Four minutes ago,” Nell replied, shaking her head when she dialed through several frequencies, obviously all with the same results.</p>
<p>“Visual or audio?”</p>
<p>“Both,” Eric answered distractedly, growling softly when his efforts too were met with silence on the comm.-system.</p>
<p>Callen breathed deeply, centering himself. “Just our team or is it a problem with the system in general?”</p>
<p>“Just our team,” Nell shook her head.</p>
<p>“The system is fine. We’re being jammed,” Eric added, rolling away from his station and over to another terminal to try and set something else up.</p>
<p>“We got satellite telemetry?”</p>
<p>“Not for another fifteen minutes,” Eric gave back without looking up from whatever he was doing now, “and I can’t hack into another satellite either as there’s none over the area.”</p>
<p>There went that idea. Callen watched the monitors in silence for a few moments, considering all angles.</p>
<p>“Check the surveillance cameras in the area for anything suspicious,” he told the techs, “this was supposed to be a courteous meeting to feel each other out. Cortez shouldn’t have access to the kind of jammers needed to force our systems down.” The niggling worry inside of himself started to grow and he felt himself tense, adrenaline slowly seeping into his body. Their target was an arms dealer with interesting connections, but so far he hadn’t been considered a huge threat or Callen would have sent more muscle with the team. Still, right now, it felt as if they were missing something.</p>
<p>Two more minutes went by before pictures of several SVUs heading towards their meeting point appeared on the main screen. Another moment went by before Eric isolated the picture of one of the drivers.</p>
<p>Callen recoiled when the man’s face appeared on the screen. “Oh no. No, no, no,” he muttered, his stomach plummeting down, dread spreading through his being, his vision narrowing.</p>
<p>“Mr. Callen?” Hetty asked behind him.</p>
<p>He spun around and turned towards her, glad for the surprise of her appearance as it stopped the flashback in its tracks. “One of the Asian’s guards,” he told her, unable to keep the slight warble out of his voice. Callen held onto his control with a tight grip as he straightened and turned back to Eric and Nell. “I need as many tactical teams as you can scatter right away. Give me as much information about the area as you can until I hit the dead zone of the jammer.”</p>
<p>He pivoted and nearly collided with Hetty who stood in his path. She arched an eyebrow at him.</p>
<p>Callen’s eyes narrowed, dread turning into fury. “Don’t try to stop me. China will not take this team down. They didn’t manage last time, and they will not manage to do so now,” he growled, anger surging powerfully through him.</p>
<p>He had done everything in his power to stop the Asian the last time and he would not let his people come to any harm now.</p>
<p>The Asian himself was in custody, had been dropped into a deep pit as far as he knew. Callen had never bothered to find out where he was being held and Hetty had never offered the information. He didn’t care, as long as the Asian was under lock and key and couldn’t do any more harm. If Callen found out that this monster was pulling strings from out of his dark pit though, he would make sure the Asian would be buried in that same black pit.</p>
<p>Hetty’s gaze was sharp and piercing before she obviously saw what she needed to see and stepped aside with a nod.</p>
<p>Callen marched past her and once the automatic doors swished open, he sprinted to the armory to gather the gear he needed.</p>
<p>Xxxxxxx</p>
<p>The fifteen minute drive was made in fewer than ten as the small convoy of tactical teams raced to their destination. Callen could only hope that they wouldn’t be too late, that they wouldn’t walk into the aftermath of a bloodbath.</p>
<p>Nell and Eric were indeed feeding them information as long as possible and Callen coordinated the tactical teams as well as the other field agents he had commandeered to tag along.</p>
<p>The comm.-system cackled and then died just as Nell had announced would happen ten seconds before. They were now blind and relaying on their instincts and the previously acquired information to stop the massacre he was certain China planned.</p>
<p>Screeching to a stop, he jumped out of the car and made his way into the dense cover of trees, taking care to be quiet despite his haste. The two members of one of the tactical teams behind him were equally cautious as they approached the location. They had made a plan of attack on the fly while they raced to the meeting point.</p>
<p>Callen didn’t give himself a moment of hesitation when he approached Kensi’s position and took in the sight. Firing twice, he watched as the man standing over her stumbled backwards and then fell. Kensi reacted instantly, turning towards where the shot had come from, her sniper rifle forgotten while she reached for the knife. Their gazes connected for a moment, surprise and astonishment crossing through her eyes before she glanced around and saw the man lying a few feet away from her. She hadn’t heard the enemy sneak up, completely focused on her job of protecting her team mates from above. That was always a problem for snipers without a spotter. They were left vulnerable when they were in the zone of concentration.</p>
<p>Turning her head back to Callen, she gave him a sharp nod of thanks that he returned.</p>
<p>“Keep overwatch. We’re being set up. Tac teams coming up from the east and west end,” he told her shortly before he glanced down the slope.</p>
<p>Deeks and Sam had taken cover upon his shots and were out of immediate sight. Callen could only hope they hadn’t scared the Chinese Agents away. He didn’t want those men to run rampart in his city and continue being a threat to his team any longer.</p>
<p>He spared another glance for Kensi, noting she had settled back in front of the rifle and was canvassing the area. He signaled for one of the men from the tactical team to remain with her while the other followed Callen down the slope, carefully picking their steps.</p>
<p>The shot came out of nowhere and Callen was thrown back, the bullet finding center mass and striking with the force of a sledgehammer. Losing his footing, he fell hard, rolling down the slope before he came to rest in the dense foliage. Breath had been punched out of his lungs by the force of the bullet and he lay there, gasping and floundering as he struggled to take in some air. Callen curled onto the side, curving his body around the point of agony. He listened to the sound of gunfire around him as he tried breathing through the pain. It took long moments before he regained enough of his breath and his senses to put himself back into the game. The vest had taken the hit, but he knew there would be colorful bruises later on. At least he was still alive to see the bruises forming.</p>
<p>The guy from the tac team who had been with him before he had been shot was squatting down beside him. He waved the concern away before carefully pushing himself up and scanning the area.</p>
<p>Bursts of gunfire could be heard through the valley where the tactical teams were returning the enemy’s fire.</p>
<p>It seemed like someone was holding a grudge against him. Callen was certain they had been waiting for him to show up before the fireworks started. Down below, Sam and Deeks were still wedged behind cover, under heavy fire while their tactical teams were beginning to converge on the enemy, taking them out one by one. The Chinese had found well protected ambush positions and were relentlessly firing back.</p>
<p>At least Sam and Deeks had sturdy cover and in drawing enemy fire, they helped the tac squads in locating the shooters.</p>
<p>In the middle of the shootout, their comms cackled back on and it was a relief to hear their techs’ voices and regain their guidance.</p>
<p>It took a small eternity, but eventually, the area quieted down. Everyone was holding their breaths and no one was taking the victory for granted.</p>
<p>“Sam, Deeks, remain where you are. Everyone else, canvass the area from above,” Callen directed, “Nell, Eric… can you help with thermal imaging?” He needed his team mates to remain behind cover as they would be most vulnerable in the space of the meeting place below and his gut told him there was a sniper-nest remaining, waiting to take people out once they lowered their guard.</p>
<p>“Roger that,” came the dual replies from Ops and moments later, directions were given, helping them in finding possible remaining threats.</p>
<p>There wasn’t one remaining sniper nest, but two of them.</p>
<p>It took a long while before everyone was satisfied that there were no more threats and slowly, everyone lowered their guard.</p>
<p>By that time, everyone was feeling the effects of the adrenaline and the stress and everyone was glad the ambush had been derailed.</p>
<p>Callen left his position and made his way down to where Sam and Deeks stood in the middle of the valley. The car they had come in was a goner with all the bullet holes in it. At least it wasn’t a car of high value since Deeks had been undercover as a shady low level lawyer instead of a wealthy sleaze bag.</p>
<p>Sam turned when Deeks’ eyes grew wide upon seeing Callen approach. They had gotten used to expecting Callen to direct them from Ops and obviously hadn’t made the connection that he was on the ground and not just with them via their comm.-system. Callen arched a questioning eyebrow at his partner when Sam frowned.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” Sam asked.</p>
<p>“What am I…?!” Callen sniped back with an arched eyebrow. “What do you mean: what am I doing here? I’m saving your ass… again.” He smirked.</p>
<p>“The fine gentlemen of the tac teams could have done that,” Sam pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.</p>
<p>Callen threw up his hands. “See if I tear out of Ops and risk my neck for you again,” he muttered before pointing a finger at Sam, “but at least you admit to needing to be saved. It’s a start… even though it still feels a bit ungrateful.”</p>
<p>Deeks watched the verbal sparring match, for it wasn’t an argument but an old and trusted way to relieve some of the tension after being in a tight spot like this. Smirking, Deeks clapped his hands together gleefully. “Ohh, goody. Finally everything is back the way it should be.”</p>
<p>Sam and Callen shared a glance before turning to Deeks as one. “Deeks… shut up.”</p>
<p>The order came from both of them at the same time, again an age old stress relief and security measure. Picking on their Detective who usually gave as good as he got always emphasized they were all alive and well.</p>
<p>Deeks only grinned wider in response and opened his mouth to sling a shot back at the senior agents. Before he could do so, Kensi stepped up beside him and startled him out of his concentration by a well placed punch to his shoulder. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”</p>
<p>She turned to Callen, “thanks for the assist up there,” she told him.</p>
<p>Callen gave her a smile and a nod before turning to Sam, “see? Now <i>that’s</i> what I call a show of gratitude.” He stepped over to Kensi and drew her against his side. “I always knew why you were my favorite agent.”</p>
<p>Kensi and Deeks both laughed while Sam muttered something under his breath while rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>When both Deeks and Sam had turned away, Kensi glanced up at him, still pressed lightly against his side. “It’s good to have you back,” she told him quietly.</p>
<p>Callen tightened his arm around her and gave her a somewhat grateful nod.</p>
<p>“Come on, let’s get back to Ops,” he told the others. The tactical teams were still securing the area and the crime scene techs would be there soon to take over. There was nothing left for them to do for the moment as any surviving prisoners would be brought in by the tactical teams as per Hetty’s orders.</p>
<p>Deeks glanced dubiously at the shot up car the trio had arrived in and Callen grinned. “Seems like you guys might need a ride.” He gestured to the general direction where he had left his car, turning and taking Kensi - who he still hadn’t let go of - along.</p>
<p>“At least it’s not my car they shot up,” Sam groused, “last time you were in the field, the Challenger found a premature end.”</p>
<p>Callen arched an eyebrow, “you want to walk back to Ops?” he asked sweetly.</p>
<p>“Can’t be much worse than your driving,” Sam shot back.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on. I apologized,” Callen said, rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>“He apologized, he says,” Sam mocked, throwing up his hands and scoffing, “you <i>sunk</i> the Challenger in the harbor… with me inside.”</p>
<p>Callen pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side, “alright. Listen… the next time I have to assassinate you, I promise I’ll take my Mercedes.”</p>
<p>Sam pointed a finger in his direction. “See that you do!”</p>
<p>“I hate it when mom and dad are fighting,” Deeks huffed from two steps behind Callen, his voice laced heavily with mirth.</p>
<p>“Deeks?” Callen called over his shoulder, turning his head towards him.</p>
<p>“Mnnn?” the younger man gave back with a wide grin, already knowing what was coming.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” all three of them chorused laughingly - and if Callen mostly held back the laugh, it had more to do with the bruised ribs from the shot he had taken to the vest than the gloom and doom that had seemed to try and keep reaching for him the last few months.</p>
<p>This, right now, was good. For the first time since he’d been taken by the Asian, he was really back where he belonged, in the field, bantering with his team without holding back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alright, that's it already. Another story done.<br/>I really hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to those who commented or sent kudos :)</p>
<p>So, all that's left now:<br/>I hope you'll have a good Christmas, whatever you do and however different from usual it might be!<br/>Stay safe out there and I'll see you next year.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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